hod shebchesed
I will have to adopt
any child born from me
if I wish my wife
to be able to also
(the petition of a married
person must be made jointly)
and, of course, vice versa
I laugh at the absurdity
but the rest of it
does make terrifying sense to
the part of my mind that’s
been shaped by, has even
come to rely on, paper
as here, with the lawyer,
a future comes clear: fishing
documents out of the car
for some other state’s cop
to show that our child
is mine and is hers
the spectre of such stops
arrived at this door where
not even uterine blood can
deter those bent on entering
oh, God, what a world,
in which we are lucky
the house on Blackberry Lane
gets twenty-four offers, sells for
more than one hundred thousand
over the half million ask
my dears share the news
that they’ve been reading (that
they’ve been living) so at
least the razor shards of fear
can be held, can be
cradled, in ever more hearts
a loved one starts collecting
menstrual cloths and cast-off rags
to make her priestly robes
we walk about our lives.
who will have a chair
when the music turns off
and who do we think
will start it up again?
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