Clandestine

He hid in the closet
While they threw the mother of his children from the fourth floor window
For his crimes
She had begged for his life once before, pleaded for the drug dealer who fathered her daughters

While they threw the mother of his children from the fourth floor window
He cowered in a haze of coke or heroin or weed
She had begged for his life once before, pleaded for the dealer of drugs who fathered her daughters

He cowered in a haze of coke or heroin or weed
He hid in the closet, silent
Her body, not made for flight, shattered on the pavement below,
because of his wrongdoing
For Willie’s crimes, For Willie’s crimes, For Willie’s crimes

(c) Davita Joie 2016