Because quitting summons angry ghosts,
only escape dispels them. Red childhood
ransomed by charity, his cellular remains
return to the cold water flat where need
originated, now brittle with rust. Thin
wisdom was the starting gun fired from
elderly mouths, dodged in youth. Flight
demands sacrifice and winnows regret.
That he could have conformed, held
in society’s arms, never occurred. No
matter. The dreams that melt in spoons
enter resplendent and leave splintered.