non/fiction and poetry
The heat’s breathing heavy and my stuffed elephant wants to shake off her heavy skin, I can tell.We hung fake stars in our window to drown out the lights from the cars driving by and the phones walking by and the eyes poking in because all of that keeps us awake and alert and reminds [...]
We held trial for yellow
But the jury blushed and shrunk up and
Died.
We swept them up and fed them to the fire.
It is the girl who always sits in the front-left seat, and once I blink my eyes dry, I can see her dyed, red hair beneath her black hood. Another panic attacks me when I take my seat (always the Emergency Exit seat: it’s easy to remember and applicable to every other bus I will ever ride) and peer around my brown “leather” fortress to see that the scalp reflected in the long mirror above the windshield is thin, and covered in an orange-knit hat. Not blonde, with brown glasses perched in the thin waves. I blink again, but the snow is definitely gone and that is definitely not my bus driver.
Mrs. Green nodded happily, and went home to make a lasagna for Mr. Green, who had had a difficult day at the office.
Highlight me with methyl flame until I turn blue-black
The world is stripping itself bare
“Son, it’s time you knew…”
And the trees drop their secrets again.
It is a tile out of the sky. The sun sets to border it and clouds float in purple broth about its crown. The tallest child throws the football furthest in the grassy cradle of its lap, but the child is an ant under The Screen’s wide chin.
When you’re three, no one knows what the moon is made of. It’s just made of Moon.
Leaves wink wink wink
Pale underneath
Like brown hands with pink palms
Comments