4/16

candy house

unwrapping the door knob
& putting it in my mouth.
my father believed in 
the kind of sweetness
that turns your teeth into 
hag stones. i remember standing
in the yard eating a bag
of gummy chicken's feet
& thinking "this is breakfast."
bubble gum cigars. he said,
"this is how to be a man"
& then said, "did i tell you 
that you could be a man?"
i shattered windows with jaw breakers
& blamed it on the phantom 
chicken coop. every poem 
is a biography & a fantasy.
i planted dice & grew a tree of 1s. 
the bed of licorice we watched
the men eat. on their hands
& knees. i said, "why can't 
i decimate something. the wants 
of a static blanket child. 
so much sugar. bath tub of sugar.
bowl by the coffee holy water 
fountain. in the chimney 
my brother & i would say
there was a chocolate solider.
one who might come & liberate us
in the middle of the night. 
he would put a finger to his lips
& say, "no one wants to have a gender
until they do." he would pull us
like blimps through the air.
cotton candy sunset. our father
asleep like a tootsie roll 
in its little wax evening gown. 

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