FIVE

  • I was at the Costco when they

    called me and told me. While

    I was standing there in the book

    section at Costco smelling the

    pages of books. In the aisle made

    of just books they

    called me and told me-

    He told me. My husband was

    the one

    who told me. He whispered it

    through the tiny speaker in my phone

    and he didn’t want to

    tell me through a small speaker. He wanted

    to come find me

    and say it-

    face of my face,

    hand of my hand,

    flesh of my flesh- He wished

    he was there to say it

    say it

    just say it

    say that my brother,

    big brother who grilled

    us all salmon, and for

    his wife, his four

    kids, just the night before,

    was dead.

    And I was standing by the books

    and the cart was full

    and my baby faced me

    faced my impotent eyes and where—

    where did he

    where do I

    where was I supposed to

    The man at the checkout counter

    told me he liked my pretty pink lipgloss.

  • A single bulb on the strand is dead

    where the father is gone the sons and brothers

    travel to the place where an inimitable

    light is not just dim but dire

    disparate the fates of babies cold

    steel bats and expired weed killer lie

    discouraged here in the garage

    where the sons and brothers

    and urgent sisters

    search for a spare light

    new sparks to mend the broken strand

    there are some who say if one beam

    goes out the others will die with it but

    I have not found this to be

    true the remaining can

    still burn

    a flame alive in affliction a

    second awareness of a

    brilliance breath more

    awake to what remains all the bright

    because an absence of

    one beloved light

    the standard tome is told to men in

    one sure line but I can see

    lives and lights strands

    and strings they find themselves

    entangled and entwined in

    cycling gleams of bulbs and

    beams their flicker warm the worn

    a collective reflective of flecks

    lost — we all still blaze

  • And out of nowhere

    somewhere in the bow

    the bending of your

    knees and the letting your

    too heavy of a fist

    fall

    fall down open

    into the hole hollow

    in your lap. More than

    holding a flicker or even a

    flash or a flame of it—

    more than a brilliant

    new something smashing

    through an abundance

    bidden for so long unanswered 

    cold—

    it finally arrived.

    Inside our most terrible ache inside

    of it, a lost smile came back

    home inside the— this literally is 

    my worst nightmare come 

    true— the answer to 

    my plea was unconcealed

    was revealed and there 

    it was inside of me birthed into me

    gifted through a cervix

    of horror. 

    A breaking heart and

    the chest pain that you hold

    with your right hand

    and your left hand

    too. The crack wrought

    from your lonely heart breaking. 

    It quivers violent,

    alone 

    while the tough shield is

    rent from the lonely heart breaking. 

    Heart cracks hurt bad and are loud.

    Pound. Fire. 

    Pound. Hammer.

    Arriving at our nightmare made 

    true. Split open. Open maybe

    torn a slit and there is a dark

    red blood letting. Open the clearer sounds of—

    Wait.

    Wait.

    What is that?

    hmmmmm hmmmm hmmmm

    What is that?

    hmmmmm hmmmm

    A hum.

    A glowing hum—

    a hymn

    of hearts cracking. 

    Everywhere. Everyone.

    Pulses ripping

    arteries tearing. There are so many.

    Pound. Fire.

    Pound. Hammer. 

    Pound. Fire. Pound.

    Hammer.

    hmmmmm hmmmm hmmmmm

    How?

    How could I not hear

    before— the broken beats

    inside so vast the

    alley of languid beautiful hearts.

    And this, the radiant

    new something that came

    and made whole my

    empty fist and open lap

    and saved me: 

    Broken hearts are never lonely.

  • Oh Father—160 just

    one hundred and sixty and ours

    the double bond appears

    reproachably rended more again than

    perhaps the one hundred and

    sixty years then and tired

    time is a shallow voyage below

    all hunger is gone for

    the dry land there is no

    soil in the heart of

    those who now survive on top.

    A pirouetting people they remember

    to forget but without the forgive oh

    forgive the people who

    forget the bones beneath all

    their fractured feet while

    they imagine better their swollen

    unction vaults - - -

    across mercurial air

    I hear diligent mouths demarc-

    ated arms asleep their

    inert legs.

    With utmost reverence for

    those mansions Thou hast

    prepared—

    I’d rather inherit this dirt

    the sacred mud fed with a tutored

    pain-gained blood it nurses the land

    they all carry on

    while the compost plays the

    groaning score of this

    the last best hope our

    earth our

    ground our

    ransomed dust—

    Oh keep and let

    them bend

    shush— listen

PHOTO BY CARLY RED

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