Who's there? 
Who's there? 
And I remember 
Flashes of laughter 
And lunatics 
Seductive propaganda 
Scrolling across my mind 
Like guerrilla cinema. 
Belts and wooden spoons 
Flies in the afterbirth 
And crawling on linoleum kitchens 
And cracked porcelain sinks stuffed with 
Dirty dishes. 
The early morning anxiety of grade-school dark stockings to hide curses. 
Secret friends and festive holidays 
And everyone in their 
Sunday best 
Pretending to like each other. 
For generations and generations of 
Sad mistakes. 
Stealing away in the dead of night to 
Escape the stiff jawed henchmen in the hungry trucks 
Of an angry landlord miles and miles away. 
Impatient and understanding 
Waking on the side of the road 
Hissing radiator hoses cracked like 
Burned skin. 
Days so hot the nuclear holocaust would've felt like 
Siberian blizzard. 
And I remember 
The first time 
I felt it alive inside me 
Turning the dead weight 
Moving within the folds of its winged embrace 
Opening and sliding those black feathers 
Inches at a time. 
Those feet 
Pushing and digging into the membrane 
To find its comfort or to relieve pressure from one of those stagnant staces 
Where one of its limbs had gone numb. 
And I remember night 
Listening to it hum 
Feeling it move in its mysteries 
Cleaning its feathers for hours 
And I remember this 
And I know 
I never had a chance. 
There's never any escaping it.