/Pinecrest 7/1/87/
These arms are bones that have fledged many beginnings. In the early morning light we clack for survival. Who then is the one to do that one? Many. Literal bogs and beginnings. Oh Mary oh mary the manys. Miss Parker. No one understands the lonesome or maybe they do and can't say. 97 years. Miss P.K. Parker. Ann to you. I clack the I clack. Please come please listen. It's always been strained. The been strained. She was sucked away sucked away so many. I have connections in the city. I have things to do. I am connected to there are three of us here: one white with spots all boned to at various points in time. I was released for three days due to undue stress and good connections. I am being stress tested. When you come back you'll be back. Deal with what's no longer there. What brand what pleased light shows your best profile? Washes away in the thick of it. Now I lay her down to sleep. I thought the I've thought.
She races thru the dark amber under the trail as if someone after her. Comes upon an old piece of steel from the male times of digging gorge in her pocket. Tears smote her cheeks. Oh how happy industry those boys were. Oh how happy. Nature clacks patiently. I touch the cold rusted metal with my bone and an apparition occurs. No need to explain thyself. I thank nature I'm not dead for being alive. With a blank look in my eye as if I could see myself dammed up a river. Look here. A primal Indian likeness. The graves of stone barons haven't the symmetry of sucklings with re-crew cuts. Which version of bone clacking? If you kick those stones the teepee falls. Begged forgiveness. I was a kid of the suburbs and gave that even tho I'm estranged I'm sympathetic and do not discount the trees wherever I meet them. They don't explain me. They were written in my brain at a soft age and I miss them. At least that far.
I said bones weary tired bones afterwards what links me there? And then promptly lost myself on upon the unlosable trail. Just a test. You are forgiven. I knew that if I disappeared in the forest Jima would answer their questions. Oh looking linked. My hand is tired from something. She was away from it.
Laura Feldman
read the author's Bio and Working Notes
go to this issue's table of contents