Still Life with Mariah Carey


So then my stomach gets lonely and picks up the phone

So then my mother is shy and home with her mop

So then my father is a bloated newspaper hung on the knob

So then my sister falls asleep with the snow in her arm

So then I explode into an ice cube of iseidomals

So then I jut out like a bird brain in a left brain

So then I get down and bump every grind in the dump

So then what if I slip up and smack a child with a bone

So then I'm never a mother gushing for an epidural

So then I fall off and break the axel of my cankle

So then I am eeking the alphabet of my grandmother

Counting teeth marks left in the mud

One apivorous morning

Two shays of the mouth

Too many cordate atoms

So then I'm a brass hook alow a barathea bog

And she sings through the apples swelling in the yard.

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