at some rodeo
you kissed my neck in front of my grandparents / it wasn’t that you couldn’t / everyone laughed / it was that five miles away / someone wept when they heard the crack / the bulls and the clowns were raging / a bottle of lightning on its side / while the pipes bickered apart a noise / a clanging furnace cleaved into an ant hill / you sucked on my little boy neck to show you could / and it taught me a lesson / about how you could do anything you wanted / and it placed the universe in your eyes / so when I’d look at you from then on / I’d see the cosmos in your laugh / and you’d see your son / in an overturned barrel / with white and red makeup / running
when men tell me
they’re romantics I feel an ashtray gorge in my heart and an ape fall on my back
when they say romance is for nice guys I puke until my fingers rot and until my throat corrodes
as they show me how it was her fault I look at doors and I watch for ground molars
before my father tells me again the rose on his shoulder is for the drop of blood brought by the thorn I beg the beast to get off my body to let it all exhaust
Canine Estates
from my backyard
playing in the sprinkler
dancing in the shade
he watches
he touches
he hopes to watch
& touch
in my front yard
playing in the idea
these children might be humans
in my dusty rooms
playing with the corded phone
calling the police
he knows
a blue dot
doesn’t mean shit
to these
blue uniforms
in that red Toyota out front
playing through the idea
those children will never be safe
“what kind of son did I raise?” mom, summer 2013