i’ve been out to lunch since we got here.
it’s another change in seasons,
spring and everyone is out to
brunch celebrating maternal lessons,

begotten lies, or if they’re more triumphant,
forgotten spite.
spring hats,
spring sandals,
spring grief,
sometimes things just go away
like missing pieces:
backs of earrings in the hotel room
at your youngest cousin’s wedding,
origami florets you sprinkled at your mother’s ankles
when you were just learning how to fix the cereal
to give appreciation;
diplomas, expired passports, birth certificates,
they don’t really mean much;
you’re here and you can prove it if they ask
with this giant gaping hole in the center of
everything
that you at last had the guts to crack;
the diamond she stole,
all winter blooms,
the time you had left,
grand ideas slipping out of your ears like ripples of
eureka!
plopping on your floor for the ants to devour
before they ever land.

you should have tried harder.

because love is boundless I can’t possess it;
it consumes me with its showy humility,
strangles like history,
swallows like tidal waves of
unyielding southern humidity,
and I can’t escape it.
feelings for the flesh that steal me are so
palpable, like ghosts, I’m moaning exorcism!
and synonyms for hurry up.
the climax is the body’s clever parapraxis,
and love?
I want this thing gone.

so I can be empty with my tea and good ideas
with the other sisters going shopping for new shoes.
I’ll slice open those ants and rip them back out,
write down our fused imaginings,
send it back to you stuffed with their dead little toes
and threatening locks of my dead ashy hair.
I’m vanishing inside of myself again.
I knit a sweater full of verses I’ve never heard,
wrap it tightly for the winter.
wear the world like vapor,
my fortune cookie says

my dear girl, you are so lonely
you have created all of this

(the world just falls from my shoulders)
you are mourning events,
people, places & things that never existed

(cut it open, pull it out)
wipe those ruby red eyes
take a look around

(before it disintegrates)
but my house is a burning building
so I better bounce.

I had one fawn over me,
but he fell in the giant yawn I stomped in the yard.
like my bright wishes,
he’s also passing me by
prowling for something I don’t ever get
because it’s real and it’s found
somewhere out there.
he is holding it and I am
thinking about it.
(eyes shut tight)

I am crafting the fable of how we first
met, and you are falling for my every
word.
you say this isn’t real?
I write back every dream you’ve
ever heard.

“how to forget everything day 67”

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