Saturday, May 26, 2012

Plan B


I, God—and moreover you—made him. Ironically, in his would-be days I’d punish him if he slept too long. Silly boy! Wasting his life away. I hear his snotty breath bending around a room into an empty hallway, frantically playing videos games with his friends.

I sit and imagine his impeccable dream-snout, like his mother’s, turning blindly around some moth corner in his twenties. Never to turn that Roman nose up at some shithole motel and smile, totally in love, with no earth to rush through, without one hammering breath to purse, one wrenched hammering mistake to make. Poor girl, to think he never met one anthill!

And if we’d allowed him one conversation I’d say, “Don’t pretend to be careless, life is too short to be careless” (while I stood in front of a mirror and you behind me with shaving cream and I realized that every moment without you is wasted.) So bend me a favor, doll. Come enough near me and let me apologize with your lips for something you’ve already forgotten, for Him and me that made you unmake him.


Thursday, May 17, 2012

They Work in the Work They Love in the Love You in Love You are in Love He Loves You


Practice said she act like a child years the mirror used for thirty three teeth exposed she put down the zucchini supposing smiling with a zucchini in your mouth was impossible outside more than ten miles of road between them seven sharp date in eight hours the bathroom door closed mom's off to work get dinner going she said through the door radio said storms crops need it men at gas station say so bye to momma off down route six dusty little brothers watch her slow in a dust cloud and turn at the stop sign both running in the sprinkler all day waiting until she brings them inside for rain

Thirty minutes late he thought damn won’t matter driving over the rain’s holding things up train passed lumbering at a snail’s pace no chance to go around she’ll just take me this time spent more than ten last time more than ten dollars last time on pop a movie and ice cream just waiting didn’t even watch it melting so ready but this time her body blonde her back and forth in dad’s backseat Christ special glass tires decals on the side insurance license etcetera

Then in the middle

Swinging freely but suddenly her hands round herself a bit sadly the storm already I want to keep silent he says greater than sixteen cold storms moved to suspend her bones in breathing I have seen the car moving and fog moving I want to keep the sound of crickets in corn silent for a moment keep her on the edge look through her in this room of glass special glass windows designed industry wise to shatter a bit exposed

Reaching to fill in points of origin shirt over heel she verbs I stab-a-clean-one-eyed  with tongue wide wet then suddenly snakes spinning red wire straps wrap around and sixteen large breasts she hangs he reaches again period, she says mildly.  She can take weeks more than a bit of thunder in the Midwest to keep silent running her hands still she coaxes nudging bones exposing chances for a bit of rumble from tomorrow she clears her throat at the sun poking a mile through you are in love he loves you