into myself, dark passions insist
this time
I burden not even the wind
with my own heart
i will be the cat crying outside the door
that keeps the rest of things
together
from the good work.
to listen to grass is not an excuse to lie down. it is
to hear the green chirp
and feel dirt. when dirt is heard a backyard crust will preserve
only dead puppies today
all the ones going we put in black plastic bags
heavy thuds into requiem
these rigor mortis dogs from the highway
in Drama incessant crying is childhood
my papaw
i know him through gestures guesses the aftermath of breakfast
cleaning plates
ice cold fruit
fishing lines brown water
his mysterious desk and a pen
which drained ink off bathing suits
naked ladies appeared
when you held it upside down
an eagle tattoo on his arm and a closet
too small to hold any decent man’s belongings
jammed full of his
into any of her mother’s dresses.
She’d go in the closet
eye the garments, breathing hot breath on them
like silk
watch the fabric beneath her fingers,
those darn dresses
those darn beautiful dresses.
Zipping up she squeezed
first — her breath then –
her chest
nothing would ever zip.
Once she ate a grape all day only a grape
nothing zipped.
Josephine Rosalie would never fit
into any of those dresses
those darn dresses
those darn beautiful dresses.
She could
wear the false jewelry matter of fact
she’d prefer tape it to the body.
This is surgery.
Surgery is more important than fitting in things that don’t fit
like fancy old dresses or shoes
so she’d handle Mamaw’s surgeries in a toy room with a trophy case.
The surgeries were mostly brain, heart, sometimes a limb.
Rhinestone sutures, letter opener
rows of fake pearls held in place by a bandage.
Buttons spilling out once in a while
when somebody moved.
It is important not to move.
Do not disturb the stitches!
Try not to laugh.
But most importantly
do not move.
I love red wine
beautiful chalices
candlelight
white robes incense
hardwood soft music
roses
gentle hands lasagna dinners
red wine
beautiful chalices
blessed and locked special box
everything so beautiful
beautiful
I can’t wait to get up there Jesus Christ!
gets frozen on your face
once you experience great physical pain
anguish suffering it’s subconscious
if you’ve been in physical pain for a time
anguish pain and suffering
are frozen on your face not yet
thawed
not yet melted
for some, that expression sticks
when they told you ‘go to god’ you didn’t know the door you knock
on a place where somebody hands you a new scared expression
they photograph it frame it put it on the living room table
kind of picture you imagine your dad has hidden away somewhere
of his time fighting a war he didn’t want
now there’s a picture of the remnants of pain frozen on your own young face
you’re the next cover model for National Geo in your sister’s photography collection
some bird with an expression of pain frozen on her face
not that you can’t experience happiness
not that you can’t smile for the camera
not that you don’t get why people are smiling
you can
you do
you do
you
just also identify
with that pain in others
before it melts as it
melts
you want to be part of the reason of melting it not
keeping it
frozen
there