years since the gap first appeared between the teeth of a little girl picking raspberries from her mother's hand by the poisoned stream a toxic tale of porcelain has traced its tiny fingers round the lines on contour maps (& their bedroom walls they stick our portraits & sit up for haircuts while you look for lice (quivering blue & the stream's ghastly handwriting etching metallic notes each time it rains the flow oh-so milky-white like a daughter's teeth it's nothing or a politician's grin there's nothing to be done we can't vote (can't even see the lead lies prone at the bottom of the gulf between where we end & everybody else's first-world problems begin
Leave a comment