Alpine Nuts
Don’t miss me
too much
reaching inside
the broom closet
to wipe up the mess
Mop’s not there—
where
no cleaning powder
either
No soft presence
lingering from my shampoo
The one you said was
Alpine nuts
good enough to eat
snuggling your nose
in my tangles.
*
Write it blank
you instruct me
in matters
of blood and rust
there is that
around the drain
you feel menaced by—
only rust—
I keep telling you.
*
Despite
you wake up
don’t feel rain cutting
holes in your face
notice the pillow
is blackened from night
is stiff, a smoking gun.
All that’s gone wrong
measures sleep in numbers
—violence has answers
despite, you say.
*
The last balcony— and bells
you kept climbing
velvet stairs, the handrail
soft from entrails
roping the distance:
stretch of fields
a full-blown womb
almost overnight,
pale sun, snake eyes,
girls emerging out of women
breaking open
the long silent history.
(Featured Photo by Laura Bruno)