i just spent a good hour agonizing over this set of econ problems, wondering why the answer key wasn’t matching at all with my answers, when i realized that i had done the problems for the wrong chapter
Late June, grass lush like pretty brown girls,
like Vietnam. Tan hips on a beach, the sun
orange and pregnant.
No, that’s a different poem.
In this one, children sell citrus on the streets,
mouths sour and ripe. This is an exploration in grief.
Lake house sugar,
reading the same chapter of the same book
or two years in a overgrown tree house,
vines like barbed wire, climbing roses,
sticks of dynamite in the freezer like popsicles.
I learned to live in a place
that splintered itself. My father made rocking
chairs for a living. It was almost natural. You ripped
chunks out of the sofa, the sun melting butter on my legs.
Cracking me beneath your teeth like sunflower seeds.
You kept our kitchen knives beneath the mattress
like my mother and her gold. I bought lemons from
a pretty-eyed boy with bubblegum lips,
an apple pie and baseball heart, all that good American shit.
Winter is the season of burnt tongues.
Salt and ice on the back of your hand.
You peel the skin off and I count piano key bones.
You never said enough
& I never said no, to you.