The Fathers

  by Moireh Moon

I would kill you
if I could
if I could raise the knife
drive it steady to its mark
a clean kill
no question

if I could hold still
the fluttering pictures
of your many faces
a sure rage
no mercy

I would kill you again
and again
until you had ceased wandering
the hallways
the dark house of my mind

but you would only bleed your life
into cracks
in the old rough flooring
and dead
your stink would stay
forever