Have You Spent Much Time Here?


I found your address in the phone book
and visited you at your mother’s mother’s house

the pots fell onto the kitchen floor
chak chak – I didn’t see you then

but you weren’t lonelier than the basket
of grass in the shade by the hopscotch grid

we will eat that later
but don’t smile

what counts as milky white
is possibly the
result of indigestion

in the corner of the corner
are you the result

of your mother’s love

of tines flecked with albumin
rubbed with gray ancestors

whose faces did not appear in the boiling pot
as though the end of the tunnel was closer
and more apparent

all the cracks in the window
are just as made up
of the ruins
the fleshy part of dinner
the anklet bracelet
forgiven as trinket / heirloom

the braised part
is the part
the half-life of shellfish

who signal
their eyes caught up with rhyme
long hair and singing
and others