853

rolls
rolls
of thunder
oh lord keep me awake
–

my son has little hands
that grip and squeeze

my son has brown eyes
that he didn’t get from me

my son falls down

my son knows his mother
knows his father
but doesn’t know me

my son stays up
when the lights are out

my son doesn’t have
all his teeth yet

–
I burned my calendar
I made the weeks into
little ashtrays
I put on the same clothes
as yesterday
I write the same poem
every night