From “Girls That Never Die”

a girl     buried to the chest

in red earth         her wrists

bound beneath the soil

with twine    a crowd gathers

to father her                 its infinite

hands      curved loosely around

a stone                   small enough

that no single throw   is named

as cause of death           no single

hand       accountable to the blood

the girl   undaughter         unnamed

unfaced         undone from the lineage

her photographs               pulled already

from bookshelf   from walls    her father

among the hands             his pebble

streaked with quartz      the first to rise

to carve the air & arc     toward the girl

the rootless tree          faceless & erect

& perhaps the stones             twisting

like fireworks                        the girl

their nucleus                   rise    & rise

for a time                  opposite of rain

opposite of  hail & perhaps the silence

a beat too long                       & another

another                    & then a rustling

of  wings                        above the girl

a flock                   thick mixed cloud

of avifauna          partridge & nightjar

& golden sparrow                  & avocet

& lapwing               & every other sort

of  plover        & ibis & heron & gulls

though the sea    is far & to the north

& the minutes pass & the girl is untouched

& each bird in its beak        tongues a stone

 

[what if  i will not die]

[what          will govern me then]

[how         to govern me then]

[what bounty           then            on my name]

[what stone       what rope              what man

                                              will be my officer]