t-bone

i fed the stegosaurus everything i had
until i was just a pair of stockings.
the intersection was crowded with protesters 
who had been there so long they
no longer knew what they were protesting for. 
there were so many small fires. there were 
so many televisions & so many dinosaurs 
without time periods to live in.
a common ice breaker is "what other era
would you like to exist?" i usually answer
"the primordial soup." i want to writhe.
i want to wriggle. my head was full of screws
& images of my fathering. he shook me awake.
put his finger to his lips & said,
"i am not real." the stegosaurus is a family member.
we have to take what lineage we can get.
i go into the driver's seat & i don't have my license 
& i don't have a car. the car is a stegosaurus.
the intersection is crowded with geese 
who no longer have a place to fly 
in the winter. my mouth catches on fire.
we put it out with tongue. taping everything
back into place. i told you again,
"we live in a duct tape city." the night came
with crinkling wrapping paper & 
a nutrition label. i was born with my ingredients
written across my shoulders. the car came
from a different time. it had a prehistoric face.
smashed like punching a hole through a wall.
like sudden & viscous anger. broken glass.
calling for help. the animals bones
in the road. protesters asked me, "how did
this happen?" i vibrated. i levitated.
"i don't know. i don't know," i said
before running away from the carnage.
before becoming a full time firework.
a letter in the mail came that said, 
"i'm so disappointed at your lack 
of good citizen." i crumpled it up & ate it.