she touches her face
the tip of her left ring finger
brushes the top of the arch of her
dark eye brow.
This is the site of some great tragedy.
This one spot.
My brother said that if I wanna gain
weight I have to drink 3 glasses of whole
milk each day.
I'm reminded of the time he and i drank glasses of
milk then jumped rope in the empty auditorium of
an elementary school where my father was a custodian.
I almost vomited.
And also that time at summer camp when rueben organized
a milk drinking contest.
So at a table in the middle of a field in august 12
teenagers poured gallons of very cold milk into their stomachs.
They shivered, chilling from the inside out.
Then they started to vomit, one by one.
Thick ropes of bright white milk
flooding out of their mouths and noses.
Even Gen who took her time and read a magazine
she vomited too. There were no retching sounds,
no hacking, just the sudden wet release of milk into the grass.
She smells like sugar. Like sweet cheap perfume.
But it's not perfume, almost like the wrapper of a hard
candy, that weirdly powdery smell, chalky and bright.
Her hand does not shake. And when you look at her she's all you can
see. Like her edges are blurred or rubbed with vaseline
so it's just weird monet painting colors and swirls, but nothing
solid.
(Her mouth moves dumbly,
her thick red tongue looks wet
like a peeled cherry or tomato.
You notice the size of her wrists.
They too easily break, in your imagination.
Just snap, like wooden chopsticks pulled apart.
The inside corner of her right eye twitches,
just barely, but the skin pulls up and in
You hold her broken wrists in your imagination
There's no blood just dust.
You can not look her in the eye anymore,
not with her broken wrists in your hands, in your mind.
You stare at her mouth, it moves and moves
all you hear though, is the snapping, grinding and
cracking of her bones.)
the tip of her left ring finger
brushes the top of the arch of her
dark eye brow.
This is the site of some great tragedy.
This one spot.
My brother said that if I wanna gain
weight I have to drink 3 glasses of whole
milk each day.
I'm reminded of the time he and i drank glasses of
milk then jumped rope in the empty auditorium of
an elementary school where my father was a custodian.
I almost vomited.
And also that time at summer camp when rueben organized
a milk drinking contest.
So at a table in the middle of a field in august 12
teenagers poured gallons of very cold milk into their stomachs.
They shivered, chilling from the inside out.
Then they started to vomit, one by one.
Thick ropes of bright white milk
flooding out of their mouths and noses.
Even Gen who took her time and read a magazine
she vomited too. There were no retching sounds,
no hacking, just the sudden wet release of milk into the grass.
She smells like sugar. Like sweet cheap perfume.
But it's not perfume, almost like the wrapper of a hard
candy, that weirdly powdery smell, chalky and bright.
Her hand does not shake. And when you look at her she's all you can
see. Like her edges are blurred or rubbed with vaseline
so it's just weird monet painting colors and swirls, but nothing
solid.
(Her mouth moves dumbly,
her thick red tongue looks wet
like a peeled cherry or tomato.
You notice the size of her wrists.
They too easily break, in your imagination.
Just snap, like wooden chopsticks pulled apart.
The inside corner of her right eye twitches,
just barely, but the skin pulls up and in
You hold her broken wrists in your imagination
There's no blood just dust.
You can not look her in the eye anymore,
not with her broken wrists in your hands, in your mind.
You stare at her mouth, it moves and moves
all you hear though, is the snapping, grinding and
cracking of her bones.)
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