She sees the world through both eyes. A firm believer that actions speak louder than words, she can often be seen quietly observing others, absorbing every detail. Uncertain about most things, but certain about one: she is a mystery even unto herself.
[listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying]
listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying
the day fades and the starlings roost: a body’s a husk a nest of goodbyehis wrist colorless and soft was not a stick of chewing gum
how tell? well a plastic bracelet with his name for one. & no mint
his eyes distinguishable from oysters how? only when pried openshe at times felt the needle going in. felt her own sides cave. she rasped
she twitched with a palsy: tectonic plates grumbled under her feetsoiled his sheets clogged the yellow BIOHAZARD bin: later to be burned
soot clouds billowed out over the city: a stole. a pillbox hat [smart city]
and wouldn’t the taxis stop now. and wouldn’t a hush smother us allthe vascular walls graffitied and scarred. a clotted rend in the muscle
wend through the avenues throttled t-cells. processional staph & thrushthe scourge the spike a stab a shending bile the grace the quenching
mother who brought me here, muddler: open the window. let birds inD.A. Powell
