Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Breakfast, Lunch


Nougat with flecks of grain, white
bread with swiss
.
in the morning the air on the porch
smells of blood but it is only
the roses stretching towards
the sun over the limbs of the dying
in the garden
.
"I like to go barefoot in my sheer white
nightgown, my hair swept
back with a scorpion"
.
she was always hungry but never liked to admit it
.
she preferred to chew
toilet paper in the safety of her
own closet
.
"I’m not a morning person"
.
"If you keep me
waiting one more minute
I’m going to take your sister
and leave you here"
.
sobbing so hard it sounds
like a meat bell
tolling
face like a lost red shoe
.
clinging to the door knob despite the tugs
at the back of his collar until the seams
ripped until the tag with his name sewn on
pulled free
.
"Look closer, I want to tell you everything I know
about dead dogs
revived with injections
of sea water"
.
they lived close enough
to the water to be a rest stop
for gulls
.
sometimes they would drop tiny crabs
on her head
it was so shiny and hard like a rock
.
Who doesn’t like cotton candy?
when applied directly it acts
just like an ace bandage

2 comments:

Radish King said...

Jesus, Christine, this took my breath away.

I like to go barefoot in my sheer white
nightgown, my hair swept
back with a scorpion


Oh my.

Christine said...

Thanks! Yeah, Mom's crazy that way, her and her insects of leisure.