Inkling
an online journal of poetry and prose

04/13/09

food for the birds

it was heavy

like a weighted Frisbee

the fragrant shell

this thick plate of bread-circular and flat.

we saw its face blemished by olives,

sliced ebony rings that could fit around an infant’s pinkie

Rosemary- frozen, spiky, and stiff in our eyes

it danced and swirled loosely in our nostrils

the wilted, wrinkled violet ovals of the red onion

laid upon the skin of the loaf

we knew that if they were taken off,

we would see wetted, empty, brown scars

you said we should wait until we could cut it with a knife,

i said we should tear it,

so we hovered like secretive birds around our loaf

using only our hands.

*                  *                  *

Money

Out of nowhere, a voice-

She had been watching me

that lovely ghost

who scolded me, gently

Told me never

to put money in my mouth

She said it was dirty

I took the penny out, slowly

and I stared at her, mesmerized-

Her hair was graying flames, like rising

dust bunnies from behind the door

Moving slowly, lovingly around her soft face

And clear eyes.

She told me to keep it in my hands,

where I could see it

to keep it outside of me

Good advice for a girl

of any age, so

I keep remembering her words

Just to stay in that place where

 I can still see her

Sitting in the chair, where

My shoulders come only to her knees

Taking the penny

out of my mouth.

*                  *                  *

silk parts

Your lips pressed to my closed eyelids,

Like blankets over and over

Like fingers in honey

Coming up like fish for food

Like mercy killing

A painful injection of saccharine and syrup

Like dressing in the sheets of tears from the irrepressibly happy

Growing tulips out of my spine

Velvet rabbits asleep in my ribcage

Like rubbing the silk parts of clothes between my thumb and first finger

Twenty moons humming with pale golden lips

Like swan necks, unfailingly long and firm

The way rain runs off bird feathers

Olives pushed onto the tips of fingers

The quiet collapse of tissue covering a broken bone

Like having my knees pushed from behind

Just like ten thousand honey bees vibrating on my heart.