Because quitting summons angry ghosts,

only escape dispels them. Red childhood

ransomed by charity, his cellular remains

return to the cold water flat where need

originated, now brittle with rust. Thin

wisdom was the starting gun fired from

elderly mouths, dodged in youth. Flight

demands sacrifice and winnows regret.

That he could have conformed, held

in society’s arms, never occurred. No

matter. The dreams that melt in spoons

enter resplendent and leave splintered.