birthplace 10 The basement animals are taking too long to name. Brother is throwing packs of cigarettes into a baby pool that sister has recently filled. The hose is dead, still on, clothing an angel. Sister wants her hand to be smaller and promises god every anthill in hell. The animals aren’t many.
birthplace 9 God learns about bones for three days in a treehouse that we pretend is on fire. Violence tells our bodies where we are. I can’t love our children more than once.
birthplace 8 My nose puts blood on a baseball. A bicycle, halfway through my brother, disappears. Keep moving, says distance. To the lamb in my deadest eye.
birthplace 7 In heaven you can touch everything and not know it.
birthplace 6 I die of touch in the creature that oceans its way out of you I’m ugly I’m ugly On land there can’t be art
birthplace 5 A 14 year old jumps from a stopped car and instantly passes out on the wrong side of the road. I can't sleep because I saw three girls putting a shoebox in the ground. Touch only has brothers but it keeps looking. In a book of sex positions we swear we saw one called empty pool with a broken ankle. I don't know why I told you that kid's age.
birthplace 4 I let my son drink too much. Ohio doesn't mean anything. I keep wanting to sing, but I can't sing. It touches me.
birthplace 3 The number of those telling me I've been here before is increasing. My son is dying. There is a book about being poor that so many buy. Pain loves hurt. Hurt is alone.
birthplace 2 I never got small enough for you to find me.
kingsoftrain 