the kids
they are calling
the girl
my mother
an oyster
–
all elbows
they are calling
them
my privates
what I think
are teeth
–
what I know of bees
can fit
in the bee
my brothers
lose
–
lost
god
is the beast we believe has power
over
the dog
that answers
to bloodbath
the name
of a child’s
fish.
(I can only speak for my daughter)
how
when her hand
to her
appears
a white man
gets a typewriter.
trained
to be homesick
the animals
disappeared. dad advised
we get out
the way
of frost, let it get
to what it’s got
to chew.
we stayed inside mostly and hollered
loud enough
for mailmen
to hear
nicknames
like little
baby
bathwater
my favorite
from the year
god’s voice
changed.
my brother the mud wrestler wants to know if we’re any closer to finding our father. I examine the droppings and say someone is feeding you in your sleep.
if the poor could keep to themselves, they’d have superheroes. hey man, hey beast, them aliens already know what it means to be human. abduction is the fingerprint of loneliness.
–
what I teach my blood is grow up. I put everything I had into ruin. watch as my mother becomes your mother trying to be two people god can use to carry tug-of-war from a fossil.
–
my dream house is language. you say it to my face how there are beheadings that have made a wish. before my son was a giant, he’d somersault. cigarette in mouth he would.
my brother calls a stoplight the math brain of god. my best friend bites the apple that once controlled the minds of sheep. scenes from your childhood bring back mine. her memory is all she can think about.
for Kazim Ali
two sons
share a pencil
then trade
ghost plate
for alien
stomach
i.
his hands looked as if they’d been born inside a tree. his cock as if god had thought twice about burning the entire stick. who am I kidding. find that fucking tree and have its baby.
ii.
my body was so hot the stretcher caught fire outside the pig pink temple.
iii.
what’s left of the human wall are the feet of the human wall
says mother
to the family
of the secret
wig.
naked I have cleaned the story of my own drowning
–
father leaves his raincloud
mother
her trapdoor
–
sometimes when my brother is near an apple
a body-bag
fit for a mouse
changes
color
kingsoftrain 