when i was sixteen i was arrestedfor throwing paving stones at the chained doorof the public poolit was 2 am and i wanted to swimjust like
i wanted to climb throughthe busted window of the mausoleummusty with overgrowth and shadowedin hydrangea the family stackedon either side of the unswept foyer the mosstoo undisturbed to be finaljust like
i scaled the watershedon the service road with boltcuttersin my backpacksnipping at an obscured stretchof chainlink and curling upand sliding underthe gods live there because peoplearen’t allowedjust like
i think i am owed secretsas though i’m one of a fewearned caretakers or a suzerainfate has grantedall sorts of trespassesbut maybe it’s just likewhat my ex wife said beforei packed the boxesi am only fascinated by whatwon’t let me in
Photo by Ron McClenny on Unsplash