Two Poems
FIXATIVE
My mom is a picture of health. Every inch a child where I used to be.
We have a turtle that lives in the fridge. In the vegetable tray. In the
bottom. Sometimes we feed it cabbage but mostly its life is there in
the empty tray. A hard shell. A bald head. One day I come home and
see that mom has cleaned my luggage like she said she would. I'd
been away on a short trip. My 18-piece luggage made of thick
wash-basin porcelain had accumulated dust. It is extremely heavy
and awkward to maneuver, its bulk outweighing its purpose. But
it protects unusual items that need protection. Upon my return, my
mother saw the dust and the frustration on my face. She said, "I'll
fix it." I came home. Each porcelain piece had been wallpapered
with fake wood grain so that it would appear lighter. “Mom, how
did you do that?” I marveled. “It’s only luggage,” she answered.
My mom saw that I was hungry and said, “I’ll fix it.” I went to wash
my face, came into the kitchen and there was mom, serving me
green soup in the huge turtle shell. “Mom, why did you do that?”
I asked. “It’s only a turtle,” she said. I had to leave for the airport
and was running late. My mother saw that I was worried and said,
“I’ll fix it.” She pulled the car to the front, my luggage strapped to
the roof, “Get in,” she said. The radio playing, past the speed
limit, a Brazilian song comes on with my mother's voice, singing
the chorus in Spanish, I was astonished. “Mom, when did you
record this?” “It’s only music,” she said. On the airplane my
mother calls me on my cellphone. “Did you get to the airport?”
she asks. “Yes, you dropped me off,” I remind her. I keep her on
the line and return to the crossword puzzle waiting on my seat.
I ask her if she knows of a six-letter word for fixative. She hangs
up. The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an
envelope with the word "now" on my lap. I open it. Inside is a
note from my mother. I think to myself, how did she do that? I
read the note. It says, “It’s only a puzzle.”
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an ice
box on my lap. The word "now" etched in frost on the outside.
I open it and there's a note from my mother inside. I think to
myself, mom how did you do that? I read the note. It says, “It’s
only a puzzle.”
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an ice
box on my lap. I open it. Inside is an envelope, and a baby
turtle eating cabbage. I open the envelope and eat the note. I
think to myself, how did I do that?
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places a
baby turtle on my lap. I look at her and she walks away. I
think to myself, mom?
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and removes
her gloves. Her face comes close to mine as she leans in.
She strokes the left side of my face and whispers, "mom."
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and removes
her gloves. Her face comes close to mine as she leans in.
She strokes the left side of my face with her left hand.
She places her right hand on my lap and unzips my
suitcase. She gently prys my teeth apart with her tongue
and pulls my turtle out of its shell. And I think, mom?
~~~
The stewardess notices my mom.
~~~
The mom.
SOME KINDA RIP IN WHAT I SEE
the sucking
the cup
the child
the dot
the dot
d o t
thesucking cup dotdot child dash
the instroke up the cross dot the dot dot
you see
these things fall into a space without apology
and so do these...
side stroke down
dash cross brokefor stash dashup slide
cross across swing check choose
to icon the i dot dot
is not a god in every letter
a dream
stroke to the letter
the world as instroke up the cross is to the letter and the word
can try to better it slipper it isn't the choice of a letter
every belief you have ever had
?
You see
I see these things fall from their own openings
Brokens laced together by brokens forced together
To be apart all the time I see these things
Some kinda rip in what I see
From inside the eyewell
The rip apparent
The dip into the eyelids torn from inside
The mouth inside the eyeball is a quiet scream dot dot slash I feel
My eyes
Into my skull
The rip apparent
From inside what I see
You see
I'm grounded in a space that allows me
To look up at the morning sun and happily and without apology
Wonder about the new day
The suckering chance
The sucking cup of child
The tentacle of child
The gouge of my eyes
Fluid ink
Sacs of dot
The dash of a space without apology dot dot
Every icon of beauty has its vanity
Every letter has its devil day
And is not every letter you have ever had some kinda involvement
Some kinda dash dot stroke dash dit with
Some kinda rip I'm in
Some kinda ground I'm grounded in
This space trying to open
The mouth from inside the eyeball
Yawning the dip into fractures
Fractures
Broken sky holes from inside
Announcing her parrot beak elegy without apology
I
Grounded in
I
Allow
Me
To fall
Into
Elegy without apology
The ground opening
The eyeball bursting
Declaring
Her‘ology
Without apology...you see
I see these things fall apart all the time
Calling me to the rip in what I see
The suckering into wonder
I dot dot dot but not yet
Side stroke octamortalia
Ink sacs of dot dot doctopi
but not yet
Slash
Pus letters dash fluid crot
not but not
not dot not but not
not