animals who lie like i want to

i watch the earthworms promise
winter is almost over. they are frozen
like hyphens all across the driveway.
january is a jungle of yearning.
i discover two house centipedes 
who both claim to have found god.
crazy with salvation they 
run the walls. their legs multiply.
i kill one & the other believes
it was just part of god's plan. hides himself 
& prays a miniature rosary.
the songbirds tell everyone who walks by
soon you'll be a new person.
i don't know if that's even what i need.
often times "new" just just a synonym 
for "extract." extract this person
who i have been living. i met 
a cow in the pasture & she was 
making convenants with the color green.
she assured me i would live a year longer
than i think i will. i know three people
who died last month but they don't really
seem dead. once i slept with a boy
whose cat tried to pass me
a fertility pamphlet & explained i would
make a good mother. i thanked him
& folded the glossy paper tight. i would be
so afraid of having someone depend on me.
already, the insects in my home
depend on me for stories & scraps.
if i could lie like them i would
convince myself that i am only 
just begining--that i have plenty
of time to come undone. one finger
& one strand of hair at a time.
i miss the way my heart used to cry water
& how the birds used to feed me in my sleep. 
i have it good though.
i have two lungs & sometimes a bathtub 
& sometimes i eat with my hands 
when no one is looking. a crow
tells me i will find love soon.
i tell the crow to show me where
& he flies off into the clouds.
i cross my legs. i collect feathers
for the future. i carry close
every prophecy, especially 
the ones that are false.