Animals

A colossal bird came
to life and now
feeds
the whale. Each
moment passing
some
bit of him breaking off.
Coming loose from my
descriptions. Drawers
of silver
spoons and knives. The
bloody sun
cooking its head.
Forbearance. With
balloons
tugging at our wrists

we
all have plans
to die.

Not just make it there
but
actually do it.
Celebrate with a small
gathering of wilted relatives,
plum pits, music and
the firing of a
pop gun.

Serves you right.
There must have been something
all this time
as life
coagulated at the joints.
As evil men walked through
evil time with pickaxes,
sunk them into
newly
finished graves, looking for
their mothers.

Near and far. In a
flatland called Medea. Her name
stitched
on maps. Sirens all night.
And the deep, macabre woof
of a dog

I’ve never seen. He brings
something to me in my sleep. Is it

the bone of my aunt Marnie?
Is it the bone she lost
when
she tumbled off
her bicycle?

The spotted moon coming out
from the rotted door.

Entangled and newborn out of the universe.

The aimless glow-faced animal
that prowls

the courtyard.