by Marc Carver
I went to the garage
and pulled two big bed frames out
and started to build a sculpture in the garden
I put all the planks around the side
so it looked a bit like a wooden tent.
Every day I would add bits to it and paint it.
Before long I realized it was not a sculpture at all
but a shrine.
Some one was going to die
but I did not know who
maybe her mother maybe mine
maybe my father, hers is already dead.
All I could hope for is that it would be my mother.
I am not sure she tried golf or listening to ice cube as they cling to the sculpture
but I think she would have liked the cube
the same as her boy.
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