To the Dying Texan in Me
Tanner Lee

I have murdered another memory
A straight walk of the rejected

Out back I dig a sea-level grave
To the sound of sunday pundits

It begins with never talking about sins
Trim the cake until it’s white and worthy

What do I say to the face
Of the blind?

I hand them a cane and a gun
To open a soup can

This is where I come to breathe dust
Build a shadow on the wall

Carpeted halls to perdition
Primary rooms of crushed cheerios

Formica chapels of achromatic lights
Breeding succulent sacraments

Who will come out alive?

In this nuclear family,
I’ll sit and wait to leave.

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