Cause Fishing
That chic in my office with the ponytail
better stop mincing her church skirt
red dirt in Uganda, red Earth on skulls
the mouth is a revolver, shooting letters back home
blackened
children
my gut is green with peas
catholic silver beet
& dusty whales
huts in the lounge, plaid sheets
thick with crumbs
we’re up against the mirror
pony backing height
still, you bear plagues
still, I don’t see in the dark..
I want a mentor who won’t whore me out
New York swoop
-I’ll empty my pockets for short trips to memory
trying to stay friends
with names in my phone
trying to fall
in love with brains.
Another hall/ community jaw
families smiling in their debt
how grown
the credits are
when the show ends.
Nestled against my collar bone
red beads from the city of Tonga
all words I want for myself
turn in the night
the tide has no father.
When I’m old my sisters will carry umbrellas
& beat
the sun
& bait
the moon
give my scattered organs
a breast to come home to.
I’m calling it
‘cause fishing’
pink flames dancing
every body wants
a monster
in the kitchen
a voice
heating oil.
Stop bringing your body round home
hiding it in under my sheets
saying the roads are too bruised, this time of year
I’m no good at giving change
I would not time travel
give my younger self
advice
a chance.
