Heme

White a fallthrough
black sucking knots

swallowing bilirubin
heaving a hurrying into
eye-eaves

arms wide open to
digits a dial a
tingling
a petal lowers its
drawbridge down to the
belly and locked

grazed pattern along the backside
of slick pink clutching
organ
press raw fish along the edge
the root
and down to dwell
through throat canal

prairie sky so wide
like falling through the fence
and the smell the hole
makes

Night Along the Deck

Velvet black and
loomed
with
blue pine.
Pressed flat board
flat against the
concavity of my
child’s
back.
A plastic black
handheld wireless
pressed hotly
against
my sweaty ear.
Just to hear a
cadenced breath.
The void of all
force.

Window paned wrinkling
lights nearly
a few feet above.
The counting I’ve
done,
numbering the billowing and
hollowing in such expansive
huffs,
heaves.
On the line?

Just a glow, a line of
tears
depressed, beveling
along the back of my throat from gutter to
jaw-basin.

A fervor I can hardly
wait to
remember.  I
swore it off and
now I’m
back.  Afloat.
Plastered
against–
pressed through–
woven ‘twixt
Mars, two inches of
2×4 and
liquid on the
sterling side.