I take my book of spells
that don’t work

and my silent megaphone
outside at lunchtime

and scream at the sky,
I am leaving

my job as assistant
caretaker of everything

that will only matter
after it has been approved

by the standing committee
of associate ghouls

that never meets,
their silent laughter

around a circular table
wanders into the chapel

then makes the endless
fountain of bylaws

bend while the statue
of the founder watches,

we all know he will rise
one day and meet us

where we are
to destroy us,

when I leave I will take
all the empty manila folders

that held twilight’s forbidden thoughts
and this crying bowl

someone else’s mentor
handed to me the day

I crossed the cobalt
oblivion river,

I will burn my parchment
outside the new recreation facility

then go live
with my green ache

on a very low hill that does not
look down on anyone.