often, i am not thinking about my family
and then becoming a monster, both of us
creative,
a mother once pausing
with bad thoughts
that stick
in relation to whiter things,
what we consider teeth
children don’t know about wind or leaning
but they get to feel their own personal weight
& we can put more sections in
that involve my adult steps behind yours
our shoulders humming together
it is not easy to start thinking about gravity
& what it wants,
picture rows of feet and how
the height of a body
makes pavement a lot less
of traveling
it’s this kind of stacking that
i wish i knew,
how to weep
or at least
pile myself big enough
to hurt people
often i am proud of the things
that come out
but forget about
their leaving
so i eat unusual foods
outside
or near grass
so that i can
feel different
toward you
when we’re in the same room
you remind me of
that [one] time
you were so good,
you said
what
about my family
or my name, once inhabited
by little balls of light
& i said
let’s be more like shoulders
i would never kick anyone
in the ribs
but only because
i cannot reach them
