grief stays the same

life just expands around it
says my twice-a-month therapist
experience etched at the cellular level
plays nucleic-acid drum solos
in padded karaoke rooms
let’s discuss my recent screaming
under too much bottled soju
grief is like Bohemian Rhapsody
people hate that song
cannot help but join in singing
so a feeling can be
exquisitely inadequate
I have seen arms of lavender
reach through bars of fencing
like crazed fans or starved prisoners
I’ll be bored until you break my heart