bacteria folk song
I hurt myself in the schoolyard. I drink myself through the chainlink fence. All the houses are empty. Not even my voice can fill them. I held my belly. I held my head. In the middle of the avenue. A breath of wind is the ghost of traffic stopped a long time ago. I listen to the sprinklers flirt with the grass that won't grow and green. I'm so glad no one is here to note what I've done to myself. In a narrow bed. The day is yellowed and flaking. I walk my shadow east on Yosemite Blvd.. I want to hide my head somewhere. Memory is a bigger shadow. It grows longer on sunless days. I did everything wrong. My growth is diminished on a sunny day.