Blue and Green House
I am in a house
I can see the sofa from here
There are no pictures
He owns all the windows
There is no mother in the house
All the clocks are dead
Curtains are a reflex
Dinner is cardboard
I want to lay quiet
In a bowl of batter
I want to shine His hands
With my hair
He begins to cut
He saws and grunts
And takes off legs
My mouth is gone
I am too loud for a mouth
I am too wet for a crown
Every wire hangs
I spark and spark all over
The dog is burping dogshit
He loves and loves his master
I am afraid
Jesus is a man.
Melissa Broder's second poetry collection, MEAT HEART, is now available. Recent poems appear or will appear in Guernica, Redivider, Court Green, The Missouri Review online and The Awl. She edits La Petite Zine.
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