I think the last thing I wrote was a list, not the list of vocabulary words but something else.
A list of reaches, desperate
my mom came by last night, she dropped off some lemon fettuccine with shrimp
it was delicious
& perfect because I've been craving fettuccine since three sundays ago.
my stomach rode cradled in my pelvis
my brain was in my throat
my uterus had dropped & splattered in the steps of my feet.
but I turned upside down, in that bridge move
a real yoga move
and I stretched & my organs sort of congealed back to their places forawhile.
she said, do you have any idea how much I love you?
and I couldn't possibly,
and that made me cry
and does she have any idea what I think? what I've thought?
that I have the smoke of a thousand cigarettes for hair
that I have walnuts for a hand
that my fallopiantube legs were withered, so it was difficult to walk
and I tried to spring with just my feet
but they're too small
and the shells of my fingers turned to stone, they were all numb when I woke up.
she didn't make me all alone,
but I think about how everything funny is sad
and everything sad is sort of funny
and I wonder does it make that everything
devastating, tragic
is hilarious?
and then you said, no way, what's funny about your relative getting shot to death
and we both laughed so fucking hard at that
she didn't make me all alone,
but she knew what she was doing
she had to go get a reverse tubal ligation
& dad had to get something done, too
his sperm count was low
too much yellow 5, dad?
doin the dew?
they knew what they were doing. he was 29 when they met.
they knew that there would be a baby would be a human
and it would have to live
in the future
in this world
and it's a big place
but there's nothing bigger
than being shut up in your brain
which is still throat stuck
& choking
