These Hazy Days

Shower Curtains

                                                        * warning: expletive below* 

          Rock gray on my feet
        Paint on my hands and a marble
      In my throat, fluttering.
                                                         Breathing?
                                     I don't think so.

A goldfinch threads his warm fingers through mine
                             Looks me in the
                                   Black glass eye
                                           And asks me to say more.

            Water falls down the mountainside
      And a flower blooms at its hip.

Grandma's shower curtains wave
                  Bathtub sobs
         Hands and knees
                  On wet tile
My children—
                     Are they mine?—
          Peer through white frames,
Eyes wide.

Shoo, says Grandma. Get your sloppy joes.

My crooked body hurts.
Chalk on my teeth.
Wind on my face.

           At the baseball diamond Dad
      Makes a poor pitch,
Breaks my nose.

Mom on the phone
At the lice removal clinic
Shouts fuck, six year old ears
Burn. Hair product stings the eyes.

Chainlink hurts when you try to climb.

Parents don't want you in the room.