I was expecting a petrified map
a bare wall
pleading (with a curled lip)
for my muddy hands

But in the bathroom
of that toy train theater
I found a pushpin
that I didn’t remember dropping
the night that I stretched my neck
halfway to the popcorn-stucco ceiling
and vowed through popcorn-stucco lips
that I would let myself be free

This town is growing memory flesh
in philo dough layers
there are new things
to learn to let go

I was expecting a bare wall
not the shadow of my voice
telling stories about the mud

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s