Poem: To Watch The Heaving Distress

To watch the heaving distress
is a call to open natures
a sticky fig brown cake
           In the corner
finds dad

tiring up hill
sweat touching the ringing
wheatstalks to his mouth
screeching birds to his eyes
screeching bells to his ears

a mockingbird hisses floral patterns,
chews old sundays,
finds time in early champagne,
loves mother new - but still live healthy

Donna finds still-hating in
Judy's dinner "still a whore"
never ending
all in black
fist-balling up stairs
           eye kniving
spilling up

past mockingbirds
past hum-trunks  old sound boxes

tickling knees to wood
remembering why sisters stay
dads die
the wind
still goes

bells over bells