AN ODE TO DUANE

St Valentine, a kiss on a card
a hearts outline mapped on
a bare arm.

A Shitty bunch of flowers,
two years too late.
A heart shaped balloon,
deflating.

Bin bags and a door step,
a still born kitten,
a cellar full of rats.

The four fat tyres which
you slowly swallowed over
the past five years.

Ya ma, when i had her.
Your face, under a brick.

Dead.