landlessness | Robyn Art

$ 7.00

 

 

My Life as a Blonde

 

Same moon, impossible stars,

pesky light beaming in off the parkway;

morning, the post-op blue of her eyes

(He called me; I followed)

same stars, impossible moon,

ferocious slash through the sky

like the moment when all is forgiven;

(the hardest part: thanklessness.  After

that: waiting;) sky pinched between rock,

rutting season, all the way

to the drop off,  the interstate strewn

with dead deer; (He tells me in the car that he’s

patient, sure, but he’s pretty much had it

with this this perpetual winter bullshit;)

same light, impossible sky, the interstate ferocious,

thankless; In my daughter’s blended family therapy

drawings, I am always a blonde;

across the bridge, same thankless wind

sifting ash into darkening heaps;

this side of the interstate, same impossible,

same waiting, the minimalls hawking spray tans,

Steak Nightz, walk-in phlebotomy clinics;

(When she’s gone, it’s like the very ground

has swallowed her whole)

landscape receding into backlight, then opening

in the distance like the exit wound it is-

hard sky,

dark light,

moon thankless,

wait ferocious