like most of us you remember the exact moment of your birth the river cauldron disaster-ing environment we vowed to never make a great war again & left the chemicals to remind us-- seeping into swamp & soil life run wild cement igloos clutch dearly to un-used ammunition at night when illuminated by car headlight they resemble crypts they are your mothers of course fathers are the ones who use gun powders but women of course know to hold onto it swallow it until it becomes a child & i used to tell my brother on brisk autumn ombra dusks that the planet we were born on was close to the north star i'd point up i really meant we came out of the stagnant water like you the water you don't drink from your cupped hands that's what fathers say & from there you stood up fanned your black wings like the monarchs we watched hatching from chrysalises in first grade the teacher pointed & said they have to dry then before they can fly pollution ovaries menstruating between blue gills & large mouth bass they declared your mother an EPA priority for hazardous waste sitting in the reeds you discovered your fingers capable of rippling out handfuls of grass did you ask your mother what she would name you? only to see her stalwart faces she didn't want to smile for fear she would ignite one spark could do it bring the world war into her esophagus fire & shrapnel you're everything your father wasn't that's all she tells us, yes? you lay down & let the night bugs gossip about your size you see your heart beat in the grey tired souls of moths like me you name yourself there is no birth certificate no doctor an umbilical chord tethering you only to the moon you don't cut it let it drag us into the bushes when the sun comes out what kind of body is this meant to be? see your eyes burning red: your reflection in the water i reach for the tail lights of planes at night claiming the mechanics of stars wash your face collect fish hooks save them underneath the flat slate stone dry yourself i was born with wet brown hair & it hasn't dried since