Am I Supposed to Know the Difference between Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry? I Don’t.

Should I have an opinion about the kindling snap the line makes

when it’s broken,
and the ridiculous echo? There’s nothing special about being broken.

Where I’m from

it’s all plaster casts, walkers, and breathing machines. Bud’s been dead for

years and Shirley’s
still blaming him for her emphysema. I changed chronic obstructive

pulmonary disease

to emphysema in order to streamline, but Bud’s real. Aunt Shirley’s real.
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