the fossil record
<<46>>
Never entirely certain they are over.
The remainder can be reduced to an equation,
either half of which is liquid rocket fuel.
The nose cone peeled back to reveal a film cap
which the earth extruded.
The sea made demands, until, black inside,
it floated back to you.
The missing film you extracted from the trash
can upon can
as if regret had no ending, as if things could be done over again
in the right way.
As if, spliced and grafted, the bullies would walk
in a straight line
or peck at the straw.
Parrots toy
with the twigs you used to line that nest
in which a woman protected you
and a man opened a door.
In the uncomfortable light of a house,
in the schoolyard with flagpole and rope
the unconscious burned a shape.
Triangle, circle, rectangle, square.
The first strangled you, the second restored you,
the third housed you, and the fourth betrayed you.
In colors and letters you found your way
to a row of houses. The Jews migrated
north and south and east and west.
The knife blade flashes and spills
the guts of what lies beneath fatigue
in the yellow straw where the bullies waited
beating their stuffed chests.
Judith Skillman