people die in Philly

they die inside of a native-born’s kneecaps

inside of an immigrants

inner elbow, inside the

dirt under their nail.

they die inside of catered

roots and

blossomed succulents,

cactus and pricks.

they die inside of

their own individuality

or boredom, inside

of vats of acid,

inside of reenactments

of the 1900s meat packing

factories, they

die inside of their political

wars and their

civil wars and their

unwaged wars and

their useless wars,

their foreign wars

and their U.S wars.

they die inside of

horse carcass,

inside of tents

and in the

middle of giving

birth,

having a heart attack

from delivering

the baby, killing

themselves because their

husband had a

heart attack and

lost his life

for another one.

they die inside

of cardiac arrest and

lung diseases, inside

of oozing infections

that protrude

on calf muscles.