sabato 12 marzo 2016

springtime and the promise of an open fist.

Merciful mosquito
Peeper in the night rides the trainhorn to my bed
Huddled undercover
Fuck that heater
My accessory
I am so delighted I burst into
Raucous laughter
All I know
I go to work with the sunrise
And isn't hope what the fuck I'm here for?

martedì 1 marzo 2016

Where I'm From

Template from George Ella Lyons

I am from shallow creek beds
from snakes in the grass
and snappin' turtles
Won't let go til lightnin' strikes
I am from down in the valley
On Pine Valley Drive
Named by my father

And the inground pool, chosen over air conditioning when my parents sold the sailboat.

It felt like night coming on and settling between pine branches
It felt like heavy sobs
In trouble again and
Dad hits hard

It felt like recurring nightmares
That Catholic conscience wouldn't let me sleep
Felt like my sisters in the woods
The only place I wanted to be

I am from the garden
the sunflowers and little cherry tomatoes
Mom let us keep a plot
With a pinwheel
We would neglect to tend it
Weeds and dried out soil

I’m from the wintertrips to Florida
and odd sense of humor
from Anna Mae
and Marcella
and Bud, before suicide

I’m from the Miller good looks (we don't make ugly children)
and Catholic Republicans
From Whippoorwills that eat little girls
And I'll give you something to cry about
I'm from Saturday mass in the balcony courtesy Dad's social anxiety,
And God told me to knock the shit out of you the next time you don't say your prayers at dinner.

I’m from Germany, Germany, Germany, wieners and whiskey.
From the wooden leg of uncle
the drugged and raped by their father at night.

Miller family reunions at the campgrounds in Ironton.
I am from rusted cobweb memories which are many better staying put. From the woods I came and to the woods alone I belong.
I am mother nature's child and hers alone.
I am.

Sarah Marie Miller
Berea, Ky