Fresh Hell

I’ve never written a villanelle before. It was like a jigsaw puzzle. Something about having to pore over the lines so carefully removes me from the work by a few degrees, so I found myself taking on a little bit of a character as I wrote it.

 

To the Razor

 

You promise freedom but you’re just a hook.

Reflect my wasted life in your dark shine.

I can’t afford to pay for what you took.

 

Fishy in a bathtub, not a brook

I can’t believe I’m sucking on your line – –

You promise freedom but you’re just a hook.

 

There’s no reseating all the things you shook.

The friends and health and prospects that were mine.

I can’t afford to pay for what you took.

 

The brief relief of bright pain made me look.

My eyes are open now that there’s no time.

You promise freedom but you’re just a hook.

 

You shitty little con man. Thieving crook.

You told me you were peace but you were lying.

I can’t afford to pay for what you took.

 

Oh Jesus is it true my soul’s forsook?

A miracle: bathwater turned to wine.

You promise freedom but you’re just a hook.

I can’t afford to pay for what you took.