She died many times. She died
in her head. Her soul died. The long
waves of her spirit died. Her heart
was a statue in room no one entered.
One night she went with her friends
to see the loud rock band whose
members dressed like zombies.
A man, the guitarist, wore a tattered
business suit. One gray foot dragged
the floor of the stage; his shoe, pointless,
lay turned on its side. She stood and watched
until pain rose up, a horror-movie
demon. The demon took her into
his lap while the music blazed into her eye
sockets, and he dug his nails into
the different parts of her body.
A latch clicked and she fell below
the earth, unlit by sons of men.
God gives riches, bread, green things, light.