pop-up book 

page turn--

hang on skirt hem
& watch the trees raise themselves
red like barns--

the landscape-- blue & deep enough
to turn-- our house 

built itself without daddy & 
his nail gun-- driving war into 
the support beams--

we wake up to the sound of drills 

mattresses on bedroom floors

i feel myself become--
3/2 dimensional--

un-walking in the yard--
you are a morning dove or
maybe a bird feeder--

page resolves into daylight--

coffee pot whisper--
the sun (a stove top)--
i'm coming ready with 
a cast iron pan--

we'll probably burn the edges
of your eggs--

make a skirt--

i was the brother who 
whirled in dresses-- long to
my ankles-- an enigma--

a rotation of the earth 

brought to life 

believed i could tame the planets
into revolving around me--

in the backyard before
the next page i lay in paper grass--
pretended the greenish light of
an airplane was a UFO or
maybe a dragon--

raise water towers &
corn in sulking August--
fringe of town where the 
houses are being swallow by corn--

who drew these pictures &
ushered us through them?

illustration us into a sunset--
one of those bruising plum ones
that only come when you're not looking

i want you to draw me a sunset 
so audacious that it's not 
cliche for me to use in this poem--

if you shut the book i want
you to know that i'll be waiting--

maybe i'll become a park bench--
a bus stop

i want to be where you
end up

where the book ends

whose father has water colors?

whose mother numbered the pages
& set out a plate of pancakes 
at the kitchen table for us?

this is a poem about discovering
papercuts on the walls of your bedroom

about the act of hoisting 

lift me up into the landscape--

i want to be a character with you 

i want pink skin & a mouth--

to pivot with you--

that's not the wind-- that's
the next page--

don't let go of me--

i'm scared of becoming 
an archive-- will you do the
remembering if i sit & draw?

i have a set of 64 crayons--

what color would you
like me to make 

this morning?

maybe cerulean or
some other lustful color
reserved for love poems
& skies