an island leaving adults mulling the ambit, mulling the waves, wagged. The children are of one mind. (push off) The children have no bodies; no body. All around on every side: thisss . . . thiss . . . lapping spongy ground lapping what won't give off heat light some- thing breathable. The children can't breathe! (hush . . .) The children are of one mind. (push off) No body. But see how they see, with a mind's eye, thisss woman with her back to them, turning toe thigh spine tri ceps flexed finger circling the calendar touching that round where the moon should be? Feel the hubbub? Feel the sudden homing of one mind humming like a tran- sept, like a wing- span looking for a jagged pulse to impale it, trans- fix it? Find it. Fix this barbed heart pushed off out here! (here . . . here . . .) roosting rocking pierced through breathe under and all around (this . . . motion of breathing . . . this breathing . . . Copyright © Margaret Aho. |