kingsoftrain

god is the word food spells in my mouth.

you have to be this tall
to be hungry.

(there is a ghost looking for its rock collection)

our absence
unheard of

I wore
to bed
a dog’s
collar
and in
the dream
broke your leg
on mine
do you remember
being spanked
the ant
on your cheek
lonelier
than a stick

(I think
god
he put
my hand
in a hand
done
with growing (there is

the star I sleep under

the toothache
you

making owl sounds
for my son
he is so
tired
and there was a time
I invented god
thinking
I’d outlast
my body
a time
I carried
my mouth
as the stone
of the dark
and I guess
that’s how
I slept

my lips
on the head
of any
creature

mom says everyone in this photo is dead.

her eye
is quiet

the second
bird

the dirt god kept in his mouth while waiting for his mother to fall asleep. the bone your sister broke with her stomach. ghost as angel’s nostalgia. angel as the past of the stickman’s dog. the hole. the tunnel. the arm thrown overboard by a weightless orphan.

to know god
is to know god

as your abuser’s
healer. sorrow ends

but ends
as a class
taught
by a mouse.