Mother hips,
I thought every time
she passed my door,
Proud and pasty as she said
Caroline’s hand strains to touch the road
tar and night
fuse in the charity office,
Coffee, her favorie fresh
blueberry
bread.
her body whispers
ruby sockets
glow green from Lady Liberty.
She hugs her purse, photos spit across the sidewalk,
A missing finger,
a knife
grips her spine, rain mixes with
shame on my back.
I tongue the alleyway, read the brick
a fresh book, story etched into the creases.
Rust and gunpowder blend snow,
vomit in the cracks of my toes.
I hurl the Effiel Tower.
It shatters
to pieces against my office door
Caroline, an ink glob
on paper. Apple soap
washes the stink off my hands
her hips
whiskey descends my ragged throat
her grave
Caresses my frozen chin, everything
Nothing but a file under dust.
Something a little different