score board

the baby was an ice skating rink inside me.
i sat down so as to avoid cuts & bruises.
spelled my name wrong on purpose 
so when they go back through the recordes
there will be no keeper, only 
the baseball entering a thirtith orbit.
i count the teeth a lose to gracelessness.
spin eggs to check for chickens.
a friend once asked me what my body count was
& i said i wasn't sure. it's not
the kind of thing i keep track of.
there are much more important things to count.
like tulips or heart beats or cardinals.
what if the score board rang every time
my dad said, "oh i wish i were dead."
that will shift the conversation at parties.
i'm in line to get vaccinated. against what,
who knows. i trust all machines. what else
is there left to do. i decided to become
extra-biological when everyone said 
i was just a motherboard. i count on my hand
the number of times my neighbor
shoots off a bottle rocket on his porch.
eleven today alone. the score board sighs.
we are not sure what the numbers mean.
some believe in an eye or an eye 
but i only believe in tongue 
for tongue. you turn me into a pile 
of toys i do the same to you. i don't want
to be exchanged anymore. or looked at 
like a fork could be used for me.
my mom used to count brush strokes
as she pulled the comb through my hair.
it was long & full of snakes. what would it take
to give me a zero? i crack open eggs
in search of it. all the yolks are doubled 
& tripled though. they heard the message
everything from now on is to be plentiful.
past ten, there is no looking back.
i would like to be a mother of zeros.
absolute & otherwise. here comes 
all my nothing. the score board praises me
for all my efforts. crouches & spits 
flower petals on my face. a cheer sounds.
we are all triumphant or else this is
just a formality. a curtesty. 
tell me, i need to know if i won. 

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