air conditioner graveyard
have you ever seen a building
turn to graham crackers?
mush of earth & knuckle.
riding the train through every electric forest.
the birds we used to wind up
& let go. do you still think about
how we ate together? little wedding
at ther wobbly kitchen table.
taking out organs & placing them
on the table. my stomach & spleen
& ovaries. these all belong to you.
knive sharpener. the time the air conditioner
almost plummeted to the sidewalk.
living above the world & waving.
wondering whee they go when they die.
a field of broken metal & muzzles
where the air is perfectly cool.
i am old enough to feel how the earth
has shifted. this winter it only snowed once
& when it did i felt relief.
the storm where the alley ways turned
to licorice. you wondering if the trains
were still running. a match stick.
a microphone. have you ever found yourself
in front of a crowd, wanting to tell
more of the truth than you should?
i miss our life. i walk barefoot
in the machine heaven where
all the birds lay still waiting for
someone to twist the peg
in their backs so they can live again.
face down. featherless. featherless. featherless.
asking the air a question as if it were
an eight ball. "do you remember us?"
"do you remember us like i do?"