~for R~*

At the supermarket,
I pull her coat over her face
her students can’t see us
buying chocolate chip cookies,
red bull, and *****.

When I unhook her bra
on the first try.
I am showered with praise.
She explains that
this is positive
reinforcement, that this
will make me better in bed.

Sometimes she uses the words
"my kids." Here everything hurts.
I remember how we decided
to not have kids. Though
I had picked out names like
Emma. I like that name.

In the morning,
after taking all of her
red pen suggestions,
then sleeping folded
into each other.
I find five gold stars
on my nightstand.

I
want
them
to
move
closer
together.

Some Aunt or equally over-affectionate
female hovered over the child.
She blocked out the light. Her name
was something like Gertrude or Gretchen
with that growling beginning. She
made sounds at him covering him with sheets.

When he was fully covered, little Jesus would roll
around, he lived in that mound of blanketing
he died in that shroud of turning. Jesus
would laugh when Gertrude tickled him.
It was such beautiful laughter. We laugh
because he first laughed with us.

Then from Gretchen’s make-up-caked
face came the question, “Where’s Jesus?”
She said it with such fervor, lipstick jumped
from her mouth, “Where is little JC?”
Seized with laughter, Jesus felt powder
fall from her cheeks to his skin. Soft, it smelled
like laundry fresh from the dryer. Gertrude

or Gretchen would yank the sheet away from him.
Suddenly his face would appear, red and sweaty
from laughter. A child’s sweat, without water,
without blood. She would yell with the same fervor,
“I found Jesus,” and her life was different after that.

~for R~*

I could walk out and grab the strings and pull
pull them out of her mouth
the colors would unravel
thick with saliva.

I could throw myself in
among reginae
among rejoicing
on a flying machine.
When my companions fearless

asked about the saliva,
I could say, “rain”
“Rain rain rain.”
Then pull on the thick blue ropes,
picture anew.

She begins to bite down
not wanting all her thread gone.
I pull harder and harder.
My skin burns into the slimy thread.
It smells terrible.

When she collapses.
I dance around in all the thread
like a kitten,
like such a kitten.

The little old Asian man in the hardware department
has a hook for a hand, one that blunts at the end.
It is not impressive at all.
He loves his hook and uses it to slide
merchandise forward. Always moving forward.
Then he walks, walks with a certain
patterned stagger. Sometimes he talks to himself.
Sometimes he talks to you.

The paintbrushes hang on their pegs like bats.
His hook instills fear into them. Calming them,
making them settle down. The spray-paint
is troublesome, slipping past the hook
like so many ticklish cans and colors.
Especially hunter green. He’s the worst.
And all the nails, all the screws
in his department look beautiful.

The other employees have noticed his behavior.
In jealous fits they pull pegs from the displays.
They make their own hooks. They all hobble about in grunts
pulling candy closer to them, dragging plastic worms
through the fishing aisles. They talk less, drink more gin.
The customers have yet to notice a thing.

They don’t feel it like your brother did. They don’t
burn out in streaks of brilliant fire. They don’t get to.

The magpie dies like a magpie
and writhes with magpie feelings
screams in a magpie voice
and goes to magpie heaven.

I can be whoever you want me to be.
All my life where have you been?
I am just very very lonely.

Are you from Tennessee? You’re the only Ten I see.
Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?
I can be whoever you want me to be.

If beauty were time, you'd be eternity.
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
I am just very very lonely.

If you’ll be my princess, I’ll show you my pea.
Want to reenact a dream you were in?
I can be whoever you want me to be.

I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me?
Nice legs; What time are they open?
I am just very very lonely.

“I really like your peaches, I wanna shake your tree”
Nymph Ophelia in thy orifices be all my sins .
I can be whoever you want me to be.
I am just very very lonely.