What’s the Difference Between a Cuckold and a Widower?
Tonight I’m setting all our memories
on fire. My urine’s really gasoline
my spit can spark. Not even your mammaries
before the cancer will survive. You’ll clean
the ashes off their metal frames; the time
you thought I wasn’t human cuts you. Children
growing up blow up; sex is dynamite
(what’s new?). The blanket made of English lichen
that drapes your weathered headstone. You would lie here,
“A fairy’s ancient headboard.” In the sun
or rain, it heaves its heaven-ness on me;
who chained me, facing it, to this thorn tree?
The past is my repast; God lost his gun.
Night isn’t dark, the moon makes death a liar.
about the author
Jake Sheff is a pediatrics resident, captain in the USAF, and father to a beautiful baby girl whom he raises with his lovely wife. He also would feel remiss not mentioning his loyal and hilarious pets, two cats and two dogs. Poetry of his can be seen at Otis Nebula, Danse Macabre and Poydra’s Review, among other places online. He’s currently shopping around his first manuscript of poems, entitled Looting Versailles.