Poetry

I remember you from the city

the train spit me out close enough I could smell you.

I hadn’t yelled a street name or pulled a chain.

Why the train flung my ponytail and hit home plate

mystery

Trains are twins.

They look the same,

linear silver bolts breaking rock.

       Trains know the same things.

Where to go.

When to start

stop         danger

 

Feathery hope fuels my fox tail

loitered conviction in a blinking birthright

tethered to my shoulder.

My masterpiece:

ginger tin

last night’s tip in cigarettes

clean panties

always, paper

a banana.

 

I joined the line of cats heading toward the fair.

They lick until full of sour.

The sky instructs

Go home

 

Gnats pillow the air

a translucent swarm keeping gait.

Your scent, a little dog shit, little fish gut, pretty.

 

Anticipation beat— yours, mine.

some lemoney pledge salutes your

littered living room.

Across a cemented couch

legs sprawling

rats riled in pussy risk

   flashing.

 

I remember daylight dueling

the color of your breast, slain soldier

pulled from your button-less blouse.

Knotty fingers rubbing penny flesh

chiming the faceless steeple. Your voice

chicken in the hand of the slaughter

Fu-u-u-uck!

I remember I am peace and you are Peony.

I don’t know the city

or why your significance nests pigeon peril

but,

I am your mistaken skyline. You are my split cell.

A beak nurturing umbilical truth.