no name
for what
I name
I’m
the news
I get
–
she couldn’t
bring herself
in life
to talk
to the kids
she had
–
wounded in the whiteness of god,
his brother was a helicopter
they called
tornado
–
a sack
of kittens
the swimmer’s
gold
I had a doll
kept me
from believing
in sunburn, ideas
for the same
church
there is a god
but you’ve more
than one
birthplace
I held the puppet down
father
he cut
a deeper
ear, hunger
ours
was going
bald
sister
breathing
on my food
in the church
of the plastic
bag
if the clothes
don’t fit
you’re under
a microscope
his brother’s
dreams
are made
of wax
in the not
dream
of deserving
birth
three
beakless
creatures
open
the mother’s
mouth
more
are coming
just
to observe
I take every other footprint
to mom’s bedroom
she is there
pointing
a pack of cigarettes
at the television
I am still the age
of our year
together
I’ve yet
save
for the one
son
he sent
to see
god
mom says
there are others
for example
my dad’s
lonely
assailant
there is not a painting
mom
likes more
than beware
of dog
and the healthy
they were cured
to believe
in nothing
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some poems:
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[her impressions of the experiment]
his animals hiccup somewhere within the contagious yawns of god. his tumor is the crow of the ocean. the foot they hope to find me with is not yet purple. I shred a tiny pillow but your baby ain’t blind.
~
[estimations]
the hole we’re in has disappeared. we sleep on the gospel of baby mudlung. I pray mostly for people to get hurt. I don’t have a brother. he’s all alone. sister will smoke anything. a worm from the vacuum, the lice from nostalgia. I have a tv in my room that wants to play piano. I have a toy car and a turtle. it takes forever.
~
[upheaval]
a mongrel circles the stump of a tree. a spider from the angel’s dream goes on to spin a caterpillar. mom slips in and out of pregnancy. it’s my first time hearing a groundhog hate itself. you won’t crawl to anyone you haven’t seen swim.
~
[no after]
and what would you have me imagine? a change of tense in a tale of abuse. a baby licking the palm of a doll. a spoon. a robot’s broken arm. a chalk outline of a worm. hunger’s tacklebox. our allergic sister’s suicide note. a calf eating its first canary.
~
it’s trash day in ghost town. mock scar, prop mirror. mom wants to make a footstep. dad a mouse. dad a flower. sister a hand with two tied behind her back. me a sound. brother is on his stomach trying to catch something from a snake. from god. the private life of recognition.
kingsoftrain 