Photo by Roman Manshin on UnsplashA Porn Bot Likes a Photo of My Dead Mother
some days I forget you are dead.
in these omissions you are alive
again then you die
again.
Memento Mori
make my death beautiful as morning light
turning my mother’s hair into harp-string.
To The Medical Examiner
you found a penny twined
to her sweater
by dried blood. you let
me keep it, inheritance,
an heirloom I framed.
I feel close to her
when I rub Lincoln’s face
rough with white rust.
