America

 

America

"When you cut open your skin,

you see life running out."

She learned to stitch on her arms

and they bled loops round her wrists

braceletts of the bloodline.

Ten dollars a day:

Ten minutes of your time.

Her eyes wore circles

chased in the unemployment line,

bought for clearance.

"When you go away in your head,

tell me,

where do you go?"

She painted angels gold

and wrapped her arms in cotton.

She promised to write to him,

if only he'd write back.

"I can't tell you

'cause, once you know,

I can't go there no more."

Ten dollars a day:

Ten minutes of your time.

They used to play hide and seek

between the racks, plus size,

discount, $4.99.

"She smelt the same:

Of mint and chapstick."

Reviews

[Annette Jay Sweeney]

There is a really haunting quality to this piece. I think what drew me in was that the first lines have such a calm, dull sense. It's probably how someone may view it. I especially enjoy the quintets that start, "Ten dollars a day:". The rhythm is very moving. I also like how there seem to be two different voices, the one in quotes and the other. I'm not sure the title feels just right. Maybe work at that a bit.