to pursue change

to pursue a body-- a chase--
these hands who were taught
to eat hair 
to pursue clay-- 
a pinch-pot-- 
my art teacher in first grade
said that clay isn't mud
that it's stone 
to pursue stone-- to pursue
looking up from the bottom 
of a creek--
to feel minnow heart beat--
to grab at blue gills &
wriggle into smaller & smaller
spaces-- to pursue the
underbelly of the stones--
round & full of moon--
to pursue a neck-tie
pulled tighter until
you pursue air-- pursue breath--
in all these years i
have been open-window &
wind-chime teeth--
hear my whole skeleton 
clamor-- knock on the walls
of this house to wake up
the ashes of our grandfathers--
a half-drank bottle of whiskey 
in the closet-- a pair
of haunted jeans that fit
three generations of 
my family's men--
in pursuit of these bodies 
i bought a box of keys 
at an antique stand-- heavy
& rust-licked &
i had no expectation of
opening anything--
i like these keys because they're
like me-- in a pursuit of
some whole of themselves 
long missing-- they 
unlock secret doors--
wooden chests forever
waiting at the foot of someone's 
bed-- in pursuit of unlocked bodies--
in pursuit of keys & rust--
this body is rust & green copper--
this body is a box of
mismatched keys trying
locks-- trying doors until
one opens-- one opens with
a push-- a glass door knob
was my knee--
in pursuit of front doors 
& attic where we keep
our keys & our secret
doors--
i have lived in
the pockets of a my grandfather's
blue jeans-- in 
the licked seal of an envelope
mailed in pursuit of
a body-- 
i am the window that asks
again for you to leave 
the windows open-- 
i am the curtains blow
aside like hair--
i am enough ashes to 
be a fireplace-- in pursuit
of clay i made a body
to live in-- to be yours
to be mine-- to be 
full of so many windows
you can't help but look
in & see an electric candle
in the window--
so yes-- yes i have
been in pursuit of change--
i have been carrying 
this box of keys
under my tongue-- trying 
the locks of other people's mouths--
cracking mirrors
like eggs--
listening to everything
wind-chime ringing--
a roar is what i'm in pursuit of--
a body that is loud enough
to hold me--