an electric shoe.

 

 

 

I used to know a magic trick with

string where the whole would appear

to be cut into two pieces and then,

 

at the end, put back together as one. And

where this hexagon, pageantry of

apostasy would emerge to tighten the

 

middle finger with pain, little pain. And

when the string was dissembled, you could stand proud

of what had just happened as if you

 

had discovered a new way for the Inuit to sit on the

ice and wait, wait long. Or that you, and only you,

had found some round planet dangling along the shore

 

of nugat inuktitut sugar paste. String can do that.

Be limp as a pretend animal made to wave

from that Ula Dag cliff

 

with that heavy, faux fur that resembles tigers and beasts.

The memory of you breaking your thumb is still so

fresh to me as you shook your hand and ran

 

our son thought a dance was in the room so he

bounced and held the world of things in his little

fist until he grew tired, but then again, your

 

mother told me of how you liked to cry that piassava thing

where I pretended to sooth the hurt with a funny walk mimicking

your tube socks on fire.

 

You would call it later, with a pain-smile, an electric shoe/

a tiny twist of feet/ a pekoe made of toenails,

of leaves, penciled in, crayon dumb,

tea of the rich rhodora

 

of that spring show where you play the blind wife

as purple and pink garnet uses as a gem; the blackened

twine means I return to you unspooled and easy

with only a small trickle of tricks as new wings.

 

Any other is a stomachic of your sweet cheek.

I can already feel that healing,

newly formed skin

 

as a dirty, georgette blouse

of rhubarb petioles.

Reviews

[Emily B]

i believe it must be magic

[Tree]

A weaver of wordplay (ideas) you take this reader on a white/cold journey of inspiring magical/realism. So intricately woven are your images, I found myself entagled after reading this. how then does one untangle themselves, you ask? I read it again.

[TTBoy28]

Quite an interesting write here!