The Bone Man Watches The Workmen Re-Roofing My Neighbor's Garage

I can go anywhere, you know
he says and leans on the retaining
wall. Go to hell for all I care.

I’m tired of his scythe shadow
dragging along our streets as if he had no
place else to be. His eyeless stare.

Closed doors, boarded businesses everywhere
and the Bone Man brags about where he can go.
He makes a date. You pray he doesn’t show.

On the roof—no face masks or anything—
they've stripped off shingles and plywood, so
they can put on a new clean layer.

I guess they think they’re
lucky to be working. But unprepared
to block the Bone Man’s swing.

I bang my pot at seven, instead of prayer.
Come here, Bone Man: a touch, a kiss, a blow.
I’ll make that skull of yours a bell to ring.


Available! Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable, High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside