within a house, silence demands rupture,
a surface tension always at a point
of no return but never leaving. the roof
holds the exterior together, just as the edges
of your lips keep your tongue and your teeth
from flying out. and the weight of each
floor presses the center into the ground
the way your foot does in the mud
as you stumble away. every night
pulls itself inward, a slow and steady intake
of breath before bursting into exhaustion. i run
my hands over dead leaves and listen
for the promises that a set of nails makes
before being driven into concrete. if only
the grass were as warm.
All posts by manny@savo.us
spider song
i dreamt of spiders coming out of my hair with lilacs and orchids and they each sang a song i once remembered and i tried so hard to separate the orchids from the rest as they rained down my face carrying with them the words i couldn’t put my finger on and a part of me wanted to cover my ears to keep the song out of my head but i didn’t want the spiders to leave they were so graceful and soft but they had much better places to go and sing their song and the lilacs kept sticking to my hands
a tremendous sound
alone, bottlefeeding him for the first time
my son gets into a staring contest with me
raising his eyebrows, then furrowing them
until a tremendous sound
fills the bottom of his diaper
& he embarrassingly buries his head
choosing tombstones
while choosing tombstones my friend asks
“are there going to be any maintenance fees for the plot?”
to which the salesman brightly replies with a smile
“only for cable.”
spectacular car crash
sometimes i wish
for that spectacular car crash
-the happenstance of metal
& horrific force-
to put me out
of everyone’s misery
cloudy
frayed ends and dust
she says, “you’re not who i thought you were and i mourn for him”
standing by the window, i drown in frayed ends
and cough up only dust
dreamt of snow and worms
i dreamt of snow and worms squirming to the surface finding only cold light and a bitter wind as my face cracked the ice i felt my lips harden and my teeth go numb and the worms dig their way back through the corners of my eyes frozen open
breast stones
my daughter collects stones and fits them into my breast
pocket, such weight to unburden me
the design of bark
she asks, “have you exhausted it all?”
and i stretch over firmly, the design of bark
tightly held, edges crumble
as ants slide underneath, the niggle
of not yet being trapped between
suffocating and a hard place