POETRY: THE VICTIM’S GHOST By John Grey

THE VICTIM’S GHOST

By John Grey

In daylight, your ghost

is barely visible.

My breath makes

more of a wisp.

You try to rustle the curtains.

But they don’t budge.

And forget that whisper in my ear.

My dog’s fleas make more

noise than you do.

At night, your performance improves.

Set against the shadows,

those threads of your existence

do stand out a little.

But the haunting needs work.

Your wails

would be much more impressive

if you could turn the volume up.

And what’s the point of having

the right shape,

if you don’t come

with familiar features.

How about a splash

of blood

where the knife went in.

A grim gurgle

like the life

is oozing out of you.

As the phantom of the one I murdered,

you’re severely lacking.

I don’t see you on my conscience

anytime soon.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dunes Review, Poetry East and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Thin Air, Dalhousie Review and failbetter.