(for richard brautigan, two days after your birthday)

the year i turned eight, they
discovered your body’s month-old
decay building alliances in the living
room. for forty-nine years, you were
fighting against known spirits
equipped with only expectations
and no other
armaments against the everyday
battles. when they finally found you –
you had at last armed yourself by becoming
one with the gun
and you left a stain
wet enough
to dry out all the troutfishing
waters of America
.
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