puzzle reprise 

when i see puzzle pieces for autism
i want to steal them. pluck them 
from the logos & the billboards
& bumper stickers. 
assemble them like worker bees.
teach them how to be angry &
verdantly disliked. i have to admit 
i reserve a sliver of tenderness 
for them. i picture the puzzle pieces
laying together in a field of teeth,
none able to interlock with
one another. no hidden picture. 
their little lobes like starfish arms or cactus knees. 
their alienness in a hallway of doors.
at the nursing home where
we used to visit my grandmother 
it was mine & my brother's jobs
to cut new puzzle pieces to make up
for the ones that went missing. 
i like to think that those wayward 
fragments escaped. are now somewhere
being a glorious autism. maybe
the stars are puzzle pieces just really
far away. i hate them when non-autistics
use the symbol like butterfly catchers
but i, in my stubbornness, remain 
convinced i could release them. 
puzzle piece moths & puzzle piece
fireflies & puzzle piece rooms
& puzzle piece dark. i find a piece 
in my hair & draw a life around it.