unkempt class:
by Faith Mingus

you wouldn’t think it by sniffing it wouldju?
you wouldn’t find it so laughable if you didn’t have to go to a
funeral after...
it all happened here, right here, you, me, and a case of stairs –
spread at our feet,
trees stifling themselves and moaning under our sprawled selves.
you said we could whisper here, no one, nothing to hear us but the staircase.

you are inanimate, i whispered to it when you left; it whispered back,
screw you.

i knew that you and i had every sly particle of sense in our minds.

who smacked us in the sensibilities;
who snuck in the suspicions;
inanimates, unalive,
animal drives