PANDORA
2.23.21
all that comes from counting your hens before they lay
are hospital rooms and overworked nursers. Chattering teeth too anemic to build blood back to bravery.
they’re scared of the landmines (i still hear them in my sleep), we’re all scared of the landmines (be careful how loud you pop that soda), my bridges didn’t burn you see, they collapsed.
well, one collapsed – my mother nearly died that day
they blew up the other, sent the schoolbus flying off it – I nearly died that day
so no I don’t like bridges
maybe that does make me a chicken, but I’m beginning to be okay with that.
and I know you wont ever be, so go ahead, stick to counting whats in your pen, and i mine
you, your hens,
me my sheep