second draft
April 20, 2012
We are the custodians of Kerry
we take her calls,
we answer the door
to her visiting debtors
collect her letters
from the Water Board.
We cannot pass a number.
We are not able
to provide an address.
We forward no envelopes –
like sending a letter to Mrs Christmas
we place in recycling
and utter prayers.
We are the custodians of Kerry;
the receivers and guardians
the trustees of ghosts.
We tell a friend
she’s no longer living
in this house
she has no coat.
We tell the gas man
she left no cheque.
We tell the bank
we cannot help.
We tell the kitchen
she has gone,
the bedroom and stairs
already know.
We are the custodians of Kerry
send no bills,
parcels,
notes
Send no mail-order
a5 catalogues
of silver jewellery
and bonus points
She left a photo
in the meter cupboard
the parts for the cat flap
in a cardboard box
She left the manual
for the burglar alarm,
a lighter in the lobby,
razor in the bath
The mint has seeded to the property
she left the fridge
an open door
she left the place
one day,
whenever
a car,
a case
puff of smoke.
