mama girl
you
you stand in your boy’s doorway
staring
wondering why you love him
he once was so small
small enough to drink through your belly
his teeth are small villagers
his tongue
a clock tower
when he speaks
his words are chimes
his smile a bell
the roof of his mouth is metal
push your finger across
it
it will sing
he dances like a goblin
a wild wilddog boy
he sits up at night listening to the dogs behind the fields
he stands in the field hearing them
staring into the horizon
wishing to see their backs full
to feel their furs bristling
the rivers spring through life through the fall
then freeze and crack
open
again in springtime
and mother mama of a cub
you go to sleep
and your boy
he sits up
he hears the howls
he stares into the sky
mouth moving with the words
practicing the names of the dogs
Sirius
Canis Major
Canis Minor
Murzim
Wezen
Adhara
Aludra
Furud
Muliphen
swear upon this boy
swear in your sleep
tattoo this on the inside of
your skull
is the star to swear by boy
swear by it as you sleep
the moon tears a sliver from his belly and pours his silver down the throats
we are weighed down
made to stay
the trees
stood for us
we answer them with axes
the children learn to knock using them
there is one in the front door
Sunday, July 29, 2007
wild one
Beneath the black muskets of the trembling ballroom
the boy chased chickens in the yard of the earth’s stare
learning how to steal their eggs
fit five into your cheeks and creep out the door back into the moonlight
the boy can feel it on his back
every night
he hears the wild dogs howling in the woods
they talk to one another
he wonders what they are saying
and dreams of the sea
at bedtime
his mother comes in
she has long hair
the birds
love this hair
they want to sleep inside its folds
so they come to her
and sing when she smiles
every night she cooks bread
talking to herself
telling stories to make herself laugh
so the birds will sing for her
but before she cooks the bread she puts her boy to sleep
she sits on the bed next to him
he asks her to describe the ocean to him
she tells him it is blue and green at the same time
she says that it is bigger then anything he has ever seen
bigger then the moon? he asks
yes she says
bigger then the sky?
parts of it are
she tells him that inside of it
are fish filled with colors and shapes that one wouldn’t believe existed
she makes all of it up
she has never seen a shoreline
she tells him that from out of the saltwater God made the stars
that He put His fingers deep in that bowl
pulling out puddles in cupped hands
He shook the drops from them
leaving the salt in his palm
He took those crystals and stuck them into the night
why? the boy asks
so sailors could be found
so fathers can find their way home
to give people something to make dreams out of and the lovers
something to stand their oaths on top of
to give the wolves something to sing to
long after his mother has gone to sleep
the boy sits by his window
staring at the sky
he traces the night’s shapes with his eyes
listening to the wild dogs howling in the woods
and practices the names of the stars
the turning shoulder of the horse man
the centaur
the right forearm
the little belly
the swallower
the eggs
the tail of the hen
the wing
the broken eggshells
the outstretched paw
the lucky star of the slaughterer
the bear
the two wolves
the barker
Auva
Delta Vir
Delta Ari
Tau Eri
Theta Eri
Eridanus
that night he dreams of a river
she is a woman
she lifts herself from her bed
lifting the long long silk of her black dress and comes to him
he sleeps as she touches his face
she lifts him to her soft black skin
and carries him over the black trees
the black clouds are black as the black backs
inside a black bag of black cats eating mice with black whiskers and ears made of black
their black bones falling from out round mouths black and kissing the silence
the silence kisses back
this makes black music
the boy swallows himself like a tooth turned black
turning back into a little black seed
searching for dirt black as the dirt staining his hands black
he is a harp
until he stares at himself
then the boy is a boy again
he is two wolves
a bear’s broken paw
a warrior’s mirror
a howler
a wild
wild one
a pup somebody left
on the doorstep of some constellation
and he has been sipping milk from a white bowl ever since
his arms are thin rifles
his blood bullets
the sky of this world is made from gunpowder
as he sleeps
the moths talk about him
hovering above his ears
draping them in kisses
pulling the blankets up tight to keep him warm
they whisper to him
in a language he does not speak:
Stay warm little one
north of here there is ice
lots of it
when you wake
you won’t remember these words
the little ones never do
but even if you forget
and go to carve angels in the snow
remember not to pull the wings
let us fly gently by
we are just as wild as you are
the boy chased chickens in the yard of the earth’s stare
learning how to steal their eggs
fit five into your cheeks and creep out the door back into the moonlight
the boy can feel it on his back
every night
he hears the wild dogs howling in the woods
they talk to one another
he wonders what they are saying
and dreams of the sea
at bedtime
his mother comes in
she has long hair
the birds
love this hair
they want to sleep inside its folds
so they come to her
and sing when she smiles
every night she cooks bread
talking to herself
telling stories to make herself laugh
so the birds will sing for her
but before she cooks the bread she puts her boy to sleep
she sits on the bed next to him
he asks her to describe the ocean to him
she tells him it is blue and green at the same time
she says that it is bigger then anything he has ever seen
bigger then the moon? he asks
yes she says
bigger then the sky?
parts of it are
she tells him that inside of it
are fish filled with colors and shapes that one wouldn’t believe existed
she makes all of it up
she has never seen a shoreline
she tells him that from out of the saltwater God made the stars
that He put His fingers deep in that bowl
pulling out puddles in cupped hands
He shook the drops from them
leaving the salt in his palm
He took those crystals and stuck them into the night
why? the boy asks
so sailors could be found
so fathers can find their way home
to give people something to make dreams out of and the lovers
something to stand their oaths on top of
to give the wolves something to sing to
long after his mother has gone to sleep
the boy sits by his window
staring at the sky
he traces the night’s shapes with his eyes
listening to the wild dogs howling in the woods
and practices the names of the stars
the turning shoulder of the horse man
the centaur
the right forearm
the little belly
the swallower
the eggs
the tail of the hen
the wing
the broken eggshells
the outstretched paw
the lucky star of the slaughterer
the bear
the two wolves
the barker
Auva
Delta Vir
Delta Ari
Tau Eri
Theta Eri
Eridanus
that night he dreams of a river
she is a woman
she lifts herself from her bed
lifting the long long silk of her black dress and comes to him
he sleeps as she touches his face
she lifts him to her soft black skin
and carries him over the black trees
the black clouds are black as the black backs
inside a black bag of black cats eating mice with black whiskers and ears made of black
their black bones falling from out round mouths black and kissing the silence
the silence kisses back
this makes black music
the boy swallows himself like a tooth turned black
turning back into a little black seed
searching for dirt black as the dirt staining his hands black
he is a harp
until he stares at himself
then the boy is a boy again
he is two wolves
a bear’s broken paw
a warrior’s mirror
a howler
a wild
wild one
a pup somebody left
on the doorstep of some constellation
and he has been sipping milk from a white bowl ever since
his arms are thin rifles
his blood bullets
the sky of this world is made from gunpowder
as he sleeps
the moths talk about him
hovering above his ears
draping them in kisses
pulling the blankets up tight to keep him warm
they whisper to him
in a language he does not speak:
Stay warm little one
north of here there is ice
lots of it
when you wake
you won’t remember these words
the little ones never do
but even if you forget
and go to carve angels in the snow
remember not to pull the wings
let us fly gently by
we are just as wild as you are
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