apple pie burial

goodbye to my horse drawn sadness. goodbye
to the pictures of men on my money.
now, i only barter with pigs. 
in the yard we dig a hole the size
of my heart. all the promises if was made
about hunger. "you will always 
be full of flies." pulling up the lid of a can
& finding the eyes of children. in ghost land, 
delicious is a moon with two sides:
shadow & white. i go to the shadow 
with a table spoon. ask if i can measure enough
to make a feast. they moon says,
"to who do you owe your strawberries?"
i walk through a hall of hands. the hands 
turn to carrier pigeons. the carrier pigeons 
turn into tenement windows. my family
spitting their teeth out into a shared bucket.
money is worthless in the world 
of skin & lawns. my mailbox says,
"i thought it was a bank holiday."
i install a zipper where there once
was a door. i call a friend in the dead of night.
hear my observer breathing on the line
behind our chatter about balloons
& escape. i pause my friend to tell the man,
"it is alright, my treason is sadly legal."
i keep a room at the back of my throat 
where there is a single ear of corn.
there i go & consider eating it raw. 
that sweetness in the summer's ragged hair.
tell me, mom, where are we going?
father, the time is running out. 
the moon always swallows itself.
one day, i will dig up the pie 
& we will eat without you.