drowned a local man
for coming too close and
Thomas and I laughed but
I still think if I don’t count my teeth
they’ll be taken, can’t
be careful enough out here.
Last night I stepped onto a
stage heaped with dead
fish. I was looking for the right
earrings and late to tea. An
army approached but
I couldn’t quite remember
to remember. Downstage
trenches crept closer and closer
to the cafe. The man with the sword
hoped to take my life. Twenty-six
teeth. More than I
started with but less than
I once had. Am I missing
something? The skirt of my blue
dress was just a little too tight
for me to throw punches
but I wasn’t worried–
the tea was so good
and so warm. The fish
stank and I didn’t notice.
That night my lover had made us
a bed in the open window so we
could sleep listening to the rain.
My days hemorrhage;
I can barely recall what
I’ve done with them.
Yesterday Thomas told us he
almost lost his hands
in a freight elevator and
afterwards looked at them
all day astounded and now
doesn’t think of them
anymore without getting
a little sick. Last night I woke
horrified at the war, at my body
pale as the fish, and stared
at the shadows of houses the gleams
of wet bushes the drunk trees and reached
for my lover’s sleeping hands.
I’d known them a couple
days didn’t want them
to cover any of my
confusions, didn’t need
to borrow a future from them.
They would kiss both my cheeks
quick and I liked to look at their eyes
the little chip in their left iris where the blue
dripped into the whites. I looked
as long as I could in the dim
morning with no sun and
no wind but they were already driving
cities away leaving me stunned
at what I didn’t have
and hadn’t known to want.
