I have to break my promise
to the broken of the species
Vow not to prop up their droopy heads or
erase their mouths of
that rectangle of pain
in which they are frozen
They gesture with gray hands and
grasp at my ankles
not to go just yet
Must smooth the wrinkles
I didn't crease
Must shut my ears
lest I be yanked down
with the grieving
But I'm all they have
In an hour
I'll close for business
In a week
