Ten thousand light years from Orion’s Arm,
my eye is naked and
distinguished. Your small satellite orbits
my dark regions with aim.
I am uninhabitable with my gas,
and dust, and hot stars
spiraling in mass distribution.
Call me Sagittarius A….
and I will call you instable,
with your fictional planets
swaying with indefinite motion,
your thick Dwarf Elliptical
cancels out my Galaxy
over and
over again.
If I tip over, a body will fall out of my own,
a body made of bone twigs and red yarn for hair,
that jangles against itself like a marionette.
Her eyes are shaft buttons that sparkle like
they are not made of plastic, but
rather sliced from the most precious
part of Earth’s insides,
perfected and sewn to her face
by God’s tiny hands.
I am double edged.
I am a shadow inside of a shadow,
black-on-black,
in black.
I have been carved out by time
and circumstance,
and the sharp blade of bad decisions has
carved her stone out of me.
I am hollow, but she is free.
It is not hard wood, not the
gleaming – glossy
hard wood.
It is unpolished.
Raw wood.
It was built quick and quietly. An emergency.
Like when a young girl was
sent away quickly
then
returned – everything in
tact, yet emptier.
Ssshhh…We don’t talk about that.
It did not have the luxury of central air
or Vinyl Siding…
an “unfinished home”.
Unpolished, unfinished and
dysfunctional!!
The hot water was arrogant and the
cold water, cruel!
December nights waltzed in through the
cracks in the unstable
structure like they were made to take over the
place.
Pneumonia often leeched it’s way in,
threatening the morsel of comfort contained in
bronchial tubes.
Homes are cold and aloof though,
comfort is of no concern to them.
The set-up just stood, hard and rigid.
The floor boards shrieking out, as
if a bare-foot was
too much to sustain.
After some time, the ceiling began to cave. It had
been standing straight for
as long as its resources would allow.
It grew weak and frail, the floor
began to rot away, broken windows
sat bandaged back together, paralyzed.
Cinder blocks carried in cobwebs
that housed spiders more comfortably
than this house did its inhabitants.
One day, all of the inhabitants
packed and went away. No remorse, no sadness,
just the bare-feet walking further and further away.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 