We Are All Only Human, Give Up the Ghost

[Rhael Joy Laramy]

This is a poem I wrote back in 2008 found on my newly unearthed flashdrive woot woot! I don't know Thom, have I given up the ghost yet.We Are All Only Human,Give Up the Ghost.OpeningI prefer to present myself in negatives.I have learned that when you address the positives, everything unravels, eventually.This is home. Skeletons may be dead, but they will always be there, are there, dusting lint from their lapels This closet was built in when the floor plans were laid.1. Real Estate SafariI’ve lived in a house with a closet built in. When I opened the door, to retrieve my coat, a skeleton reached out shook my hand.I rented an apartment with a built in tub. When I filled the mirror with steam and started to rub-a-dub dub, puddles and puddles of blood appeared.There was once a garden on the edge of town, a public space for public faces. Children ran ‘round the trees and the birds and the bees did as they pleased in hidden places.2. Construction OptionI have an architect friend who I hired once to raise me a barn. I filled the rafters full of spiders who wove webs in yards for yards. Every last cavity, floor to ceiling I shoveled in hay to bursting, houses for the creatures that would live there one day in the flesh.3. However still:I apologize. This kitchen is used. My good aunt and I prepared unaware our dinner last night. I wrinkle my sleeves to my elbows tight; water my hands to prunes scrubbing at the entrails. Arms laden as I let loose the cupboard doors, every shelf, brimming dread full with filthy china entirely.Welcome HomeThe guest bed is always tucked in to the chin. Each sheet primed and pressed for sleep, however elusive. There are dream catchers that bleed out the mares from the night previous. Parallel am I, where at the closet, marrow drips onto slippers high heels and unnecessary things while I dress, for church, in clotheshandeddownonegenerationto the next.