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E Is For Estranged
por
Owen Pallett
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Boys run like water from the barrel to the trough. They'll never stop their running. Gunning for their brothers. This house is a hostel. It is peaceful, but it's always emptying. Boys all want to be someone. Haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird. I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire. If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit--in formal attire, I'll score you a string ensemble. I saw my son at seventeen, The shutters made projections on his naked frame. Now at twenty-five, He simply cannot stay away from the ketamine. With makeup on his sores, He spends an hour a day composing little eulogies. Sometimes he sends me letters, But it's mostly garbled phrases and apologies. But haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird. I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire. If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit--in formal attire, Cue the Bulgarian men's choir.
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