front zipper

no one asked how i wanted.
never in the hourglass & inkwell onward.
in the mood ripe-tide i took a needle
to the glass jar. siphone a single hair
& named it "look." on the porch 
a proud ironing board. tomb stones
playing crochet. grandmother trees
knitting sleep-hats for babies.
i used to tell the boy to use
his pocket knife & whittle me a house
at the edge of my own sadness. sleep with me
there where dead birds became pocketbooks.
stealing money from the collection basket,
i have been to hell for vacation. heat humid
body floating funeral down stream. 
basket ball courts with cigarettes 
hanging from their lips. i'm often tempted 
to ask god for a rose in my hair while i sleep
but i know he doesn't respond to challenges.
the proof is in the parade. a bass thrumming
in my left thigh. at the subway station
you & i were almost beautiful. took me
by the lip & yanked downward. how you remember me
& how i remember you are two separate animals.
don't tell me it was good. a soup
of headline & highline. shoes crumped 
by the door like crab shells. several months 
cracked open coconut. everything is tropical 
on the trembling yellow side of depression.
my loneliness used to have a same
but now it waits in the sink 
to be washed & put to use. 

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