dear god

dear god
I will fight you
or anyone
for the title
of this poem.

I will fight you for my son.

I will fight you
or anyone
who drops him
in the ocean

     who circles back
to save him.

focal

not even
a half hour
passes

and the man
is tying
the kicked off
shoe

     wondering
if the other
is nearby
or in

the ambulance
with his boy

immolation**

when it burns
in the oven
we call it
crow bread

     in our mouth
we call it
wasp
then slap

first our own
then the cheek
closest-

when it does not burn
at all
we check to see
if we are wearing
black socks, if we are standing

on carpet