.

I wouldn’t care about that but

my brother is there

and I am wearing his army shirt

and it seems to me that I should

have something important to say

about it

.

But I don’t

.

This is his third tour of duty

.

Isn’t it marvelous that the word “duty” also

means shit?

.

The war bores the duty out of me

Is that important?

and the neighbors are going

to start to talk about us not

caring about our lawn

.

We don’t.

.

We will plant

wildflowers back there

and let the whole thing

go naked and tangled

within its self

.

So when we go in our backyard

we’ll feel like we are going

somewhere we don’t belong

and wonder what we are stepping on

in the backyard.  And there is a fuzzy rabbit

living under the pile.

.

The rabbit’s red eyes, shiny and wet

look at me, hold their pose -fear.

.

Excitedly I point the rabbit out to daughter

and when she sees the rabbit’s cuddly face she says,

“I am going kill the rabbit and we’ll eat it”

.

“I am not going to eat the bunny” I say.

And she says, “Well, I am still going to kill him.”

.

“We live in the city.  The bunny has nowhere to go.

It probably has little babies,” I say.

.

“So,” says daughter. “The rabbit can’t live here.

We’re going to have a garden.”

.

My daughter became my mother.

Her heart grew matter of fact and her body

the strength to get the bloody thing done

.

it seems like over night

She’s the woman

and I the little girl pleading

for the animal’s life

in which I did some puking

-

Now in the early afternoon I stare out onto the blue

sky

-

and the fever is gone.  I should be out raking or skipping

in the sun

but I got sidetracked

inside a poem

-

Beautiful Emerson,

you weren’t the first to know

that all is connected.

The redwood knew that long

before you, and before the redwood

the jellyfish knew

and the all keeps moving

creating and decaying

perhaps some light will

carry over or some light

has been passed down

.

In the start of the journey

the goal wasn’t clear.

It was divide and multiply

It started with one and there

is still just one.

.

This is you. This is me.

You cannot say where

it begins and ends

or if these words

are depictions of reality

.

These words, abrupt,  speak

nothing to the liquidity

of matter or existence.

There may be no meaning

or certainty.  There may be

no safe shelter, or warmth or savory.

.

You may be onto something

looking up to the night time

sky with a body limp with awe

and the brilliant desire to reach

out and divide in rhythm to the universe’s drum

.

We are parts made of parts and so on

We are wholes inside of wholes and so forth

These are things that are parts with us;

the polar bear and the sun

the human and the passenger pigeon

the rising crust and water

calcium and the rock

.

This is why you must understand

it is meaningless and to understand

that it is meaningless you must

understand life has a purpose

and I dream of war

but inside me a baby is

growing

and despite all the ends

now I am at a beginning

.

I have seven

more months

before this life will pull

himself out

and for now

he is mine

all mine

and I don’t have to share

for a while

I thought bringing

another human

to life was

insane

6 billion plus

humans already here

taking up space

and equally destroying

each others’ children

chance at tranquility and balance

but something changed

maybe it was the silver of

the moon or watching the far away

galaxies rotate

or  some selfish

greed inside me

that wants to

see a large family

circle around me

when I am old

or the evolution of my genes

to something new and beautiful

The flower mates.  The honey bee

breeds.

Something archaic

inside of me for past

two years has said

have a baby

a fat little baby

to rock and love

to teach

and despite my intellectual

misgivings

my animal body won

you should see the way husband

smiles at me dreaming of

our love child

you are glowing

he says

you are beautiful he says

.

.

when I was a girl I didn’t want

babies

I wanted to be hobo

thumbing around the world

with a note book

and open eyes

now I am imaging a garden

and pies

and birthdays

and a new born suckling

on my fat breast

inside my stomach

that I imagine will stretch

into the future

and bring balance

to the universe

it is not worms

it’s a little divider

who will one day

look and act a lot

like you and me, big brain

this one is different;

he is mine

you can’t touch him

he is inside of me

he is my little fish

floating in tummy bowl

when the world meets him

his smile will enlighten

even the wise and coldhearted

will find awe in his rearranged dust

and supernova made amino acids

Even with all the suffering in the world,

depravity and heartache

crowding and pollution

a baby is still a wonderful addition

those perfect little parts

making themselves inside

my body

as I sip hot lemon water with honey

and imagine us in a future planting

tomatoes in our backyard garden

I lost the ability to look to the future

Grandma went crazy with grief

She didn’t want us to bring her food

or anything.  Not even hugs. She shoed us away

like raccoons

The grief ripped her face

until her large eyes were the only thing

I could recognized

Her contorted mouth claimed,

she was fine with god and grandpa

in her house

Before he died

I’d spend the night

They’d give me sweets and watch me

dance to the introduction of the evening news

Since then, death has been near

to me

He talks and I listen

How he’s just doing his job

and he can’t wait until he retires

Worn and weary from his labor

he would like a holiday

But life is all over

and he will have no idle hour

A part of death hates massive graves

but there is sense that the more

that die now

the less he’ll have to do later

Sometimes the dead are lined

up on the road.  There is not enough

shovels to dig and hide the bodies

from onlookers

It is everywhere

There is nowhere to look

that there is not death

Even the carrot dies

and death goes to

the carrot’s

conical soul and pops it

I asked death when will he die

and he laughed so hard

I knew the answer

I like turkey

You have to work hard

to get a pair of pants.

You have to leave your

home and go it alone.

If you get sick or lose your job

no one will give a damn unless

it is an election year.

If you ask for help you’ll get

a bag of canned goods and told

to get a job.

Lots of people want to come here

and live the American dream.

Lots of people who live here

wish they knew what it was.

The military goes out and does things

that most of us never learn about

Until thirty years later or when

someone finds the bodies in the mass grave.

You don’t even want to know

what we’ve done in the name of freedom

and progress.  It’d make your stomach turn

All over the world there are jokes about

us only caring about money.

Its true.  We care about money.

Without it we are homeless

landless creeps starving and driven

to madness and we are incarcerated.

Without a job or some money

we can’t get our cancer treated

or sleep in peace. In my country

citizens kill hobos they catch

sleeping outside on park benches.

People all over think we

have it so good but really only

the wealthy and blood thirsty have

it real good here.  Its not for everyone

but it is better to be here than somewhere

that has something that our leaders

want because they’ll bomb your village

or rape your innocence.  They’ll kill

and then say it was an accident of one ours

They’ll tell us you are evil.

Then they will tell

us they’ll give us money if

we do our part for their war of more

and do the worst to you and your evil

And some of us do.

We are tricked by greed

We want a better life

We want to be heroes

We want money

We want to kill the wicked

We see war and death and blood

as a necessary foul.

Its how we feed our babies

My country is not the best

unless you are comfortable

working in the morally grey