Back in those days, water
dripped through the roof when it rained
and pooled on the bed next to me.
It was OK
because I didn't sleep there
and you didn't sleep there.

Back in those days, I heard a ringing sound
at night
like a finger
'round a wine glass
and I knew a demon haunted my house.

I wrote a letter to a priest in San Francisco
asking what to do about the demons. Were there many?
Could it be multiples, like three or four?
Did they scratch on the walls and tip plates over in the kitchen
and crash all over the roof just to taunt me?
What did this mean for my soul?

What about all those broken appliances in the backyard?
Or the musty furniture building up in the livingroom--
the Scuba tank--
from that foreclosed house--
Is this normal demonic behavior?
Or is this more like a haunting, a ghost?

I remember when the noise stopped.

Finally gone, you,
the suffocation, were ended.

I know now, we summon demons.
Black holes of parasitic nature, we invite them
into our lives, bid them to stay.

They will eat the soul right out of you.
Exorcism is the only way.