Bones

When the weather is warm, we go to the beach and take out our bones.

Mine are long gray ones that I arrange symmetrically.

Yours are short pink ones that you use to stir your drink.

The waves come in on the beach and we are boneless, unwavering.

We are struck by shared memories of grandfather in the war.

What did he feel as he lifted out men on stretchers?

Blood everywhere, and visible bones.

We put our bones back in after sunset and go out for dinner.

I don’t want you to pay, but you always insist.

We had different grandfathers, but in the same war.

The one where we bombed Cambodia.

Oh! When we’re home, we take out our bones again

The television purrs in the corner and we speak our truths.

This is where he kept his gun, this is how he set up his tent.

Our collective grandfather listened to Bob Hope.

You and I, besides being boneless, have nothing in common.

You and I are like towels left out in the rain.

So fully absorbed that we’re heavy and useless.

So in need of a good wringing out.

When the weather is cold, bones stay in – all winter

We stay in too, like cats in a den

Eating food out of cans like soldiers

Jingling dog tags, whispering to limbs.

Take Me Down to the Winding River

Take me down to the winding river

Where your grandma's buried still

We'll stand guard above her headstone

On the View of the River hill

Bring a picnic with six fine cheeses

Wear your coat made of fine lynx hair

I'll be sharp in my red tuxedo

I'll bring wine with notes of pear

We'll stand guard over grandma's headstone

Where her spirit safely rests

When we're drunk on the wine with pear notes

You can weep between my breasts

When we're finished with all your crying

We'll buy tarts from the corner stand

I will soothe you like you've taught me

Let you eat them from my hand

Then together, we'll be merry

Grandma's spirit safely rests

All the sorrows that climbed inside her

Were, in fact, invited guests

You've chosen not to host such demons

That is why we're friends, I think

Come to the bar for another tart-feed

Come have a drink, have a drink, have a drink

Kittens Are On the Move Again

Kittens are on the move again.

Crawling up the walls, up the chimney.

Poking their heads out of cupboards.

Jamming up the bathroom sink.

God

There are small and large ways to experience God
Small might be collard greens
Large might be dreaming

Pandemic

Please don’t tear this baby from my breast

He is so full of viruses

If he nurses from someone else he will infect her too

Please let my baby infect me only.

Visiting the Widow

I gathered my ferns in my arms and carried them to the widow
She was blind but when she felt my face and heard my voice she knew it was me
Take these ferns and put them by the window, I said
The widow ran her fingers up and down the spore-flecked fronds
Oh it has been a long time, the widow said, her eyes filling with tears
I am ashamed to have forgotten about ferns

Who Stole my Moon?

Who stole my moon?

I left it by the rocking chair on the patio

Now it’s gone

It was my own, small moon 

I used to hug its cool, spherical body

I used to pet it like it was some fat chinchilla

Who stole my moon?

I have a lot of speeding tickets

And not a lot of friends

My moon was the one who listened to me

When I was up at night, feeling bitter

I guess I will put up signs

Missing: Personal Moon

With a photo and a reward

What would I give to have that moon back?

Five hundred dollars, at least

Oh you, whoever stole my moon

Do you appreciate its contours?

Can you smell me on it?

It never smelled of itself

Only of my cologne.

If you, you who stole my moon

If you like my moon maybe you will like me too

Or maybe you will like my smell at least

I could give you five hundred dollars

Or we could go on a date

Imagine us snuggling in bed afterwards

Both of us spooning the moon

Do you like my smell?

Do you like smelling my moon?

It could never be fully yours—always mine

But we’d share it

We’d take it out to see eclipses

Which means we’d be seeing them together

Now that I think about it, I’d empty my bank account

To get that moon back

Except I have to set aside some money for the speeding tickets

So I don’t go to jail

Where they don’t allow moons at all.