If I were a ghost, what would I haunt?
For starters, the night light in the upstairs bath
at the end of the long hallway, where the floorboards creak
with every step. I’d set that fillament flickering
with Morse-like dots and dashes, which seep into
bleary minds, feeding into their dreams
images of secret prisoners, escape plans, and bloodshed.

The car radio, next, changing all the presets
to static, then hypnotic dance, where the occasional
ghostly wail wouldn’t be out of place.

If I were a ghost, I’d inhabit your tea kettle,
bringing it to a boil at unexpected
moments, on a stove
which wasn’t hot.