Citizenship [I’m a pipe cleaner.]

I’m a pipe cleaner.

A drop of moisture on the big nose.

A pushing landscape, indecipherable.

You speak of a very good sort of Englishness.

That world could stand as a mallet.

A one-body god with penis or not.

I want only to admire the grass. The great locks of trees.

That the idea is enough.

My bringing herbs to

myself

thyself.

My life

hits my ears.

A shredded pinky stream of bass and corrugated paper.

Who is it that actually sees herself?

The heart center of the fragrance

billowing toward its end.

My mother crammed in her room next to her mother.

She was obedient.

She was the method

and voted for the wrong person.

Our sore throats were our throats.

We said to ourselves in our clay structures

we are the

motherboards.

We’ll pull the blue ox back into our barn

where the three kings still kneel.

We cleaned the stable.

We pushed the brush over the beautiful animals.