Dirt
Mud swallows the beach, freeing the hurricane inside
Anansi’s ass. Or was it the one that grates against his kidney?
There’s a god sitting on a tree stump, the morning
foaming in his mouth. Let us say a boy walks
foaming in his mouth. Let us say a boy walks
onto the beach. His father writing a eulogy to the birds
in the boy’s mouth. Already, the father fails to forgive
in the boy’s mouth. Already, the father fails to forgive
the sunlight slipping through the pines. His penmanship
is soft. Dirt unsettles him. I understand very little
is soft. Dirt unsettles him. I understand very little
of the dirt the father covers the boy’s body with or Anansi
who sits on the boy’s chest and covers the light above.
who sits on the boy’s chest and covers the light above.
