1
after she gave birth she walked
around the city imagining everyone
glistening, bordered with amniotic grit.
she worried about the dripping,
the wasteful shedding. former parts
of her body flowing into
the city storm drains. everything
reduced to run-off.
she always thought her soul
resided in her ****** now
she wonders if she'll find it
flowing though rusted pipes, swelling
in waves of excrement
and rain water.
2
there's a middled-aged woman sitting
next to her on an airplane.
every woman she sees
feels like her mother.
she wonders how many rooms she's never
been.
how many people she's never
met.
she can see the ripped scarf wrapped desperately
around the woman's head.
it's always the broken
who hold the universe in
place.
3
when i speak of my body's life
i know where it comes from.
how it exists now. i don't know
what it will
produce.
i'm still wondering if
a family can
break. or if it just
evaporates like water
into someone's exhale.
i'll never know
where the condensation lands.
perhaps i'll be a father
to a million different things.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
1
after she gave birth she walked
around the city imagining everyone
glistening, bordered with amniotic grit.
she worried about the dripping,
the wasteful shedding. former parts
of her body flowing into
the city storm drains. everything
reduced to run-off.
she always thought her soul
resided in her ****** now
she wonders if she'll find it
flowing though rusted pipes, swelling
in waves of excrement
and rain water.
2
there's a middled-aged woman sitting
next to her on an airplane.
every woman she sees
feels like her mother.
she wonders how many rooms she's never
been.
how many people she's never
met.
she can see the ripped scarf wrapped desperately
around the woman's head.
it's always the broken
who hold the universe in
place.
3
when i speak of my body's life
i know where it comes from.
how it exists now. i don't know
what it will
produce.
i'm still wondering if
a family can
break. or if it just
evaporates like water
into someone's exhale.
i'll never know
where the condensation lands.
perhaps i'll be a father
to a million different things.
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