Resections(III);
My Past Your Past a Black-Eyed Susan
Juniper: choose.
I’m off to sleep. I’m without you. (I’m alone)
You’re a ghost. You’re a sibling. You’re a divinity.
(And even the moss grass weight of this can’t take me that way)
How old are you now? I’m not seven, I’m eighty, and I don’t remember it.
Every day is a bottle. I find flowers in the yard and a tire-swing,
children at the head of the stairs. The room to the right is Grandmother’s.
You don’t go in by yourself. The edges will hurt you
sewing needle broken glass books heavy table wardrobe
in the corner one window to the right more books
If this spider spells you you’ll die.
You’re under the highbeams. You’re lighting a match.
*
The whippoorwill
in the oak makes Hoo the same sound
as the owl in the gully at a point when you burn it
the privet screams one syllable can infect you
with poisonous smoke
the Plymouth killed the roses
Grandfather said
Before I feed him there is a bad man under the table. Shame
on me.
*
You know, I can, recite books
lovely
I know, you can
Genesis Exodus Leviticus Numbers
Ruth
we all fall down
Zechariah Malachi Haggai
First and Second Samuel First and Second Kings
First and Second Chronicles
on our choices
Ezra
Nehemiah
Esther
Job
but can we
pray?
Psalms
Proverbs
(I loved watching you come here)
Ecclesiastes
*
Juniper outside the window Bobby came
to check on me He said I didn’t look good He put
some flowers on me not the cheap plastic but real ones
Next year he said he’d bring his notebook and draw again
I think of you now
Which way did you go
after we touched?
Why don’t you come?