the homeless woman pokes my belly and says in all creation I’ve got no middle.  says she catches herself sometimes pretending to be homeless.  says we ought to stone god.  says we do with prayer.  says the first spider she talked to could speak but didn’t.  says she has the two jobs my dad’s between.  says she can hear mom or mama in the radio of my brokenness.  says angels can’t go mad, can’t parallel park, can’t feign surprise.  says she eats with her ears.  says she can stop anytime.  says I’m someone’s sugarbones.  says sound is what god knocks over looking for his mouth.  says it could speak its name and it wasn’t spider.  says to hell with speech though it be our singing’s salt.