“Basement Song”
Peter Gizzi
Out of the deep
I dreamt the mother.
How deep the mother
deep the basement
the body, odor of laundry
the soul of a bug.
The grass inside
the song stains me.
The mother stains me.
That was the year
they cut my throat
and toads bloomed
on my voice box.
I have kept my head up.
Have kept myself
out of trouble
but deep is trouble
deep is mother.
Deep the song
inside summer.
Did I tell you it hurt
accepting air in a new body?
And since the change
the air burns.
-
liesandstatistics posted this
