reeseriversandstone

Bone Chair 
Traced in Clavicle
In Tibia
Will the sound be dull and hollow when I knock?

Who sits on the Bone chair 
Who waits for her loose children
To come home Quietly

I. 
Sticky syrup runs down my brother’s left arm 
Raspberry bush catches him by the ankle
We ignore the venom and crush her underfoot
Youth’s sour orange in the moment but vanilla cream forever 

that time of year again when the night is just nippy enough to stand
feet numb in half-dead grass (i'm laying prone)
against overwhelming speckly sky-sea

and the stars are smiling at me again

my mother married 
her highschool sweetheart
a boy with a babyface and a girl nicknamed "shoe"
my mother's mother married 
her 
highschool sweetheart 
met on a ski lift in the wisconsin flatlands 

calgary sticks in the mind like mud;
california's a spinner of dreams
boston is Cupid with arrows and slings;
fair london just bursts at the seams

chicago is ashy and orleans rosy;
tangled in fire and battles alike

March nineteenth hangs over my house
with the damp underbelly of a darkening cloud
It cloaks my brother in a helmet 
blinding him
while we see its tendrils spread