Monday, July 18, 2022

d. a.Powell







[listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying]

a stabat mater 

listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying 
the day fades and the starlings roost: a body's a husk a nest of goodbye 

his wrist colorless and soft was not a stick of chewing gum 
how tell? well a plastic bracelet with his name for one. & no mint 
his eyes distinguishable from oysters how? only when pried open 

she at times felt the needle going in. felt her own sides cave. she rasped 
she twitched with a palsy: tectonic plates grumbled under her feet 

soiled his sheets clogged the yellow BIOHAZARD bin: later to be burned 
soot clouds billowed out over the city: a stole. a pillbox hat [smart city] 
and wouldn't the taxis stop now. and wouldn't a hush smother us all 

the vascular walls graffitied and scarred. a clotted rend in the muscle 
wend through the avenues throttled t-cells. processional staph & thrush 

the scourge the spike a stab a shending bile the grace the quenching 
mother who brought me here, muddler: open the window. let birds in

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