rabbit horns

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a plastic doll with a human right hand distracts us from the parrot’s empty cage. we have been writing in unison instead of eating. our poverty is so advanced it keeps a fake diary and a real diary but hides them in the same spot.

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I saw my youngest brother born. I saw his mouth. I thought he’d ripped.

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the dark, the ocean. I have two reasons to believe god has not stopped creating. my anger has gone the way of the milkman. his doomed child with her piece of chalk.

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it is childish how much time she thinks I have to touch everything in the store. I am slapped so hard I am sure the mirror’s memory is for show.

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my father holds a cigarette above his head in a hotel shower. at home, my mother puts a clean shirt on the bed and jumps from her death.

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I am secretly happy that you’ve taken an egg for each day of your life to a doll so doll can sleep. as your mother, I often follow a black ball of yarn into the lake of how you remember.

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a male mime bites into a bar of soap…

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her father is just as she imagines-

a man not making siren sounds pulled over by the man who is.

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you will know the hoof of satan’s chosen deer by the way it glows when any female announces from the seat of a stilled tractor that she is pregnant. you will be the age of your mother’s baby bump, older than your father’s knife, and lit by the grape in god’s mouth.

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I am in the saddest grocery waiting with my mother for the happiest bike repair to open.

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dodgeball, no one sad.

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https://www.patreon.com/posts/rabbit-horns-20524599