new normals

i put my hands in the bucket.
all the shovel heads turn to look.
from the dirt, crawls another worm 
with all its segments shivering. 
i regret all the rain.
the nights are cold now & 
july's bugs are quiet. 
maybe they have all turned
to moths. my wings are dusty like theirs.
i kill a bug against the wall 
with my open palm & it leaves
a dot of red on my wrist.
i have been trying to learn 
what stillness can bring. 
laying on the floor, a few frogs come
to sit on my chest. 
water from the ceiling 
makes a grotto of the living room.
i used thumb tacs to hang 
all my pictures on the walls.
my femur is made of glass.
i am a hand blown kind of lover.
the mailbox has a habbit 
of swallowing my letters from you.
i want to know 
how small a human can be
before they become a figurine. 
my hair is dripping with ink.
soon i will be amphibious again
& i'll worry about the sun 
every single day. 
did you know the fireflies 
are drowning? no, we can't save them.
if there was a good thirft store
maybe i could find you
a jean jacket to decorate
with fish skins. the river
is getting high & we should 
be careful. never wade in deeper
than your waist. no one will ever see
what i do in the back window 
that faces the mountain.
a face stares back at me 
all wooded & ancient 
& i open the door to let
the spirit in. all the cats 
in the neighborhood stare at me
because they know i'm a stranger.
tell me, what do you do
to belong to the dirt?
i am digging a hole in the lake
so that all the water 
will spiral out. i know, i know 
but don't worry this lake is man made.
i just want to see the bottom.
want to see the sea monsters flopping around.
can anyone blame me
for loneliness as the world
becomes a bowl angel hair? 
when i wake up i hope my bones 
are kind to me & you will not be here
& i will take a frying pan to smack
at the sun like a gnat.

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