sabrina princeton
i was good
before the missing
side tooth decayed
and left. when i smile,
i don’t smile. i named
my absence, though
second premolar
doesn’t sound like
sabrina princeton.
she is the city
coroner and i am
on her table, tough
as recalled hard
candy. before she
scalpels that life
sized y into me,
she lifts my top
lip to make sure
it’s me. knowing
i want my death
dust poured into
the mississippi,
she plays water
sounds while
calculating my
insides. i can
hear home.
after the storm took the gate
that pit-bull/boxer
they call bear
got out. bucked
his building
of a body
against that carpet
cleaning van
down the street.
then spackled
himself into
the broken
ground of that
new construction.
i ain’t lying.
bear big
as downtown.
his bark the
central bank,
an overdue bill
with felt consequences.
i’m scared of that
dog. i’m scared of you
with all that, what dog, ain’t no dog
nowhere on this block.
now we running
outside because
i’m finna show you.
he gone. turn around,
you gone. it’s happening
again. everything
outside me
get to switching
channels. brown black
carbon black
black cat black
pitch
midnight
blackity
hole
bear.
