I wish that I could have saved the goose eggs
My grandfather gave me

With His mighty ring
So that I could take greedy bites from them

You know what I can’t get out of my head?
The color of his teeth,
They were spotless, and
His hands were like white powder.

They will make good smoke
For me to soak my skin in

And there are bubbles of silver
Mud, like empty bottles
Stored in the cellar
Of a life measured out with golden ounces
We use to clean knives in.

There is a rusty pewter frame by my bed at home
That I turn to the floor every night
So that my grandfather will not see me being weak

There is no child
Born of blue hands
Around your own neck

We will ask the world for another chance
And we will wait a thousand years
With one collective breath
The earth will whisper

No

I have found candles floating towards the dam
On the lake where my mother drowned
It’s how I learned where to swim.

Those lakes are the earth’s
Wells, a place for the walking breaths

To dip their faces in

And see the gears in the machine
Warming the fires of the sky.

Can’t I slip between the bars,
And shovel coal for those giants
Within the engine of the world?
I would like to pay my debt now

Before the flesh begins to hang
Useless from the hangers
In my maple womb

I might even sing your sorrows for you.