In the gallant spirit of spring cleaning,
I took roll call today.
Sliding back closet doors,
Some clacked their jaws like cassette tapes,
Cackling in their clack-clackity way
Like secretive schoolgirls begging to tell.
Others seemed entirely composed of dandruff,
The dissolution of skin and sinew
Until they flaked in my hands like fried fish heads.
I held my breath, lest the perversive odor
curl its tendrils around my lungs
And bind my spirit to her shame.
I wanted nothing more than to string them up by my back porch,
Watch the sun suck all of that juicy drama right out their bones,
Leave them as bleached windchimes shivering in the breeze.
I understood the impulse to lynch my dirty secrets.
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