| Prodigy
My baby is born
with a cigarette in his mouth
at three weeks he can say
credit card numbers
and by six months he can enroll
in gun kindergarten.
Landscape
Families
chopped up like forests
single
mothers
lone pines
windbreaks
against
the children's arid plain.
Knowledge
In
the dead center of my life
the black of midnight stretches like spent elastic
Morning is hard to come by, I sleep by fits and starts,
nothing fits into anything,
the starts I make are all part-hearted.
I
hate dreaming of you
of the hospital months,
of your body shrunken like some ivory netsuke,
I could pick you up and wear you at my waist.
Go away. Which means Come back.
Can't. Won't. Drop dead. fianlly. Never.
--Eve
Merriam
Copyright
© 1997 by Free Lunch Arts Alliance
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