The Sky is a Nursery Rhyme

5

In my gold slip I remember
trying to figure out why dirt was brown with a mug and a spoon
all of the statues
holding up books
like the gift I wasn’t allowed to touch
the heavy fox I picked up to prove I could
bringing my small blue veins to the surface
we took turns
riding the wheelchair
and saddle
for the combined feeling of cowboy
I want to be a country girl again

10

A paperweight
on grandmother’s desk holds down my early post-its
me in her gold slip
playing with a gold letter opener
watching cable by the week until all my teeth were new
that’s a mental saddle
I want to climb into
with stirrups for my Pumas
a gold slip and clip-on earrings
is something to hold onto
when it’s time to get back together with myself

20

not very different now
from the mug and the spoon
every finished book feels like
adding a notch to a belt I know I’ll lose
my future’s still on sight
behind me

25

why are the best events rarer than Rosemary’s steak
when I find the urgency
I walk seven blocks to the pizza shop
looking for my huckleberry friends
you'd think there'd be fewer forest fires
with all the vape pens
a man in the bar will say it’s a good thing
that bartenders aren’t ice skaters
I hate this kind of banter but I watch closely
staying on sight
discreet but alive
is my sleight of hand