glass jars aren't safe anymore so we'll throw them all away

forgetting the words for that thing
in that place
that keeps everything cold

chips but they aren't chips
the see through white cereal
that place we went where they had the big and little things

watching her blink, and wonder what will disappear next

the softest bits of brain hardening
turning black, burning
ash separating and slowly floating up

found deep in the woods by vultures circling above

sent from god, they said
god in the form of vultures helped us find her
god is good

"when do you think I'll die?" she asked
"how long do you think I have?"

and I think, who will be my mother

the zipper waves open and close
move side to side
they break
they surf
they sing
remind you that they can rip (take)
take the children with them
as the last of the pink clouds leave
they roll out as you roll in
turns the tye dye sky from cotton candy purples
to an inky grey
a scrolling search
that stays
that says
rain, lightening, thunder
its coming, its here
you better switch your suit
play your cards
call what's trump
or lose her to the magic
of imagination
of chants and spells cast by little girls
who sit (squat) on the edge of the water
directly in the path of the setting sun
arms raised, summoning the wind that whips their hair
manifesting waves
digging holes in wet sunken sand
burying rocks, twigs, shells and broken bits of beak