On Ex-girlfriends
By Chris Ryan Bordeaux

Would that I had to the power to excise
The leftovers of history
Stale memories crowding the
Vegetable drawers of my mind
Wet mold, dry rot
No baking soda capable of quelling this
And the cabbage looks faintly astonished
As it is dragged shrieking into the light
When the door is opened
The spoiled milk clamors in protest,
Claiming expiration date as defense,
But no, and again, no
No statute of limitations exists
For decomposing photographs
Colored by the candles of
Once upon a time.


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