Pupils’ pupils

It’s clean–like suburbia,
absent of dumpsters,
no scrubbing phone cords
or de-staining diskettes
like when she’s actually laying between the hotel cotton,
oh wait, we let the maids do that;
there’s sweat on the mouse
and saliva on the mouth to the hands to?

alone?
penetration turns to education, maybe artistry?
justifying pupils’ pupils in the camera;
what do thins lines draw?
locating the absent parents of a preteen wading in the hotel pool.

Family heirlooms

The kitchen chairs slowly turn to face the TV,
and the parents quit asking (even during commercials)
but want to know more then ever–
hoping to be a friend,
afraid to rebuke, terrified to be rebuked,
as if respect and obedience aren’t
parent and child:
family heirlooms in the hands of the childless.

Don’t stop breathing

Don’t stop dancing–
falling down stairs
in a one story ranch house.
Don’t stop breathing child–
the violent blue will return
to skin, violently healing.
Broken is the mind and swollen
the fingers around a rock
fighting for focus away
from a mind, four times as old.
Cold are the roads away from any Father
that chases.