summer drips off walls and
coats black roads
we are melting into tomorrow
today was nailed and hammered by a carpenter with
a golden voice
It’s blurry, but I see it
people have lost livers and kidneys
and legs
and pets
and children
and I am sad for them, I am
from under a rock
from the depths of the Pacific
from unknown planets
where I am carried by a carpenter and His golden voice
Some children have spiders in their
brains, pressing buttons at bedtime,
stopping nightmares,
praising mothers.
Other children have tapeworms.
Cynical parasites eating
juvenile appetites and vertebrae.
These children,
my children, come from
fertile plums and pears.
Summer fruit preparing
for decomposition at summer’s end.
As time goes, so skin shrivels,
hardens,
plump curdles into plush and seeds
become fossils.
A fossil will not suck nutrients from dirt,
as it should,
as parasites do,
from Summer children.
These children prepare for
ripening. Drunk swans arrive in spring
suits,
mild pink bakery sleeps
through exchange
while a Summer child
tosses rotting
petals.
These children sit, arthritic,
decomposing. Smiling at
baby ripe fruit family.
Seeds,
fruits with tapeworm scorn
creating fossils for family to mourn.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 