Cut Stems Glass Tomb
by Michael Madden
How many times had he pissed himself those final years? Plastic pall laid beneath sheet on marital bed. On living room couch, the only jeans that yet fit clinging. Thrown in wash alone, stuck to sides, slipping. Like on Gravitron ride as child. Suffocated tumble in drier. Repeat.
To know nothing of gardening but cut stems in glass tomb, stinking water.Hand raised to the sky, years later, in sunbathed grass, arm crossed over eyes: Gasp.
Michael’s work can be found in Into the Void Magazine and other places. He holds an MFA from Spalding University.