the impossibility of scattering the sun
I scooped skull bits
and grey matter
from a curb outside of
a used bookstore
and melted them into
a forged cheque
to buy knives
to sell door-to-door
sometimes telling the customer
about the torn scalp
or the concrete that had grown soft with blood
or the used bookstore
that sold disintegrating paperbacks
that promised one of the aforementioned deaths