a demon with three days to live is given to my father’s body. in this, father finds luck to be neutral. mother is a good explosion, brother is a bad. when the dust settles, sister can see the baby in her stomach. it is my belief and it is also god’s that our food is the food we forgot to poison. to pray, I am left with little more than an animal’s halo and two representations of what you were not seriously clawed by. in your sleep, you move me into mine. a finger shows itself to the back of my throat.
when what we thought
had entered
our father
left
we used him
as an alarm
god is coming
and mom
is vacuuming
stones
we borrowed clothes
from the body. food
wouldn’t fit
in our mouths
mother claimed
because
the woman knows she isn’t the one her angel wants. god says we can do this all day. I chase the car until it runs out of batteries. mother needs little. an extra night to sleep on the loss.
shake a broom
at the sky
then make
the ocean
watch
–
have a kid
in the next
life
–
to a highly
visible
other
become
attached
–
marry
and ruin
sight
unseen
kidnapped
I come
as advertised
before god
in the spitting
image
of mother.
unharmed
on earth
is a form
I do not
take after.
not for the disabled saint
of benevolent trauma
is there a thin line
between birth and death.
I mow the lawn like I’m trying to avoid a spotlight.
trauma
is an imperfect
inherited
circle
run
around a wheelchair
by a youth
knows
that even the devil
has the first half
of his life.
in a small attic
a boy
on all fours
being weakened
by a spider’s
dream
is putting
an ear
to the roof
of his sister’s
dollhouse. for making
the wrong
sounds
for animals
poor sister
was lowered
into the baby
you were born
to lift
by two
scarecrows
you’d think
were separated
at death
for the way
they don’t
carry on.
it is not uncommon, when placed on its stomach for the first time, for the infant to break a rib.
man creates the world as something to sleep on.
some water is trapped underwater.
seeing my mother
gives me
the swallows.
her sickness is bravery.
she tells the tv
its food
is too close. stillness
that she’s already
eaten.
our house is surrounded by sticks.
it is not god
gives man
something to bundle, bring inside
and break. I can piss
and put soap
on my hands.
