FIXATIVE
My mom is a picture of health. Every inch a child where I used to be. We have a turtle that lives in the fridge. In the vegetable tray. In the bottom. Sometimes we feed it cabbage but mostly its life is there in the empty tray. A hard shell. A bald head. One day I come home and see that mom has cleaned my luggage like she said she would. I'd been away on a short trip. My 18-piece luggage made of thick wash-basin porcelain had accumulated dust. It is extremely heavy and awkward to maneuver, its bulk outweighing its purpose. But it protects unusual items that need protection. Upon my return, my mother saw the dust and the frustration on my face. She said, "I'll fix it." I came home. Each porcelain piece had been wallpapered with fake wood grain so that it would appear lighter. “Mom, how did you do that?” I marveled. “It’s only luggage,” she answered. My mom saw that I was hungry and said, “I’ll fix it.” I went to wash my face, came into the kitchen and there was mom, serving me green soup in the huge turtle shell. “Mom, why did you do that?” I asked. “It’s only a turtle,” she said. I had to leave for the airport and was running late. My mother saw that I was worried and said, “I’ll fix it.” She pulled the car to the front, my luggage strapped to the roof, “Get in,” she said. The radio playing, past the speed
limit, a Brazilian song comes on with my mother's voice, singing the chorus in Spanish, I was astonished. “Mom, when did you record this?” “It’s only music,” she said. On the airplane my mother calls me on my cellphone. “Did you get to the airport?” she asks. “Yes, you dropped me off,” I remind her. I keep her on the line and return to the crossword puzzle waiting on my seat. I ask her if she knows of a six-letter word for fixative. She hangs up. The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an envelope with the word "now" on my lap. I open it. Inside is a note from my mother. I think to myself, how did she do that? I read the note. It says, “It’s only a puzzle.”
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an ice box on my lap. The word "now" etched in frost on the outside. I open it and there's a note from my mother inside. I think to myself, mom how did you do that? I read the note. It says, “It’s only a puzzle.”
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places an ice box on my lap. I open it. Inside is an envelope, and a baby turtle eating cabbage. I open the envelope and eat the note. I think to myself, how did I do that?
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and places a baby turtle on my lap. I look at her and she walks away. I think to myself, mom?
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and removes her gloves. Her face comes close to mine as she leans in. She strokes the left side of my face and whispers, "mom."
~~~
The stewardess notices my perplexed face and removes her gloves. Her face comes close to mine as she leans in. She strokes the left side of my face with her left hand. She places her right hand on my lap and unzips my suitcase. She gently prys my teeth apart with her tongue and pulls my turtle out of its shell. And I think, mom?
~~~
The stewardess notices my mom.
~~~
The mom.
SOME KINDA RIP IN WHAT I SEE
the
sucking
the
cup
the
child
the
dot
the
dot
d
o
thesucking
cup
the
up
instroke
t
dotdot the
child
cross
dot
the
dash dot
dot
you see these things fall into a space without apology and so do these...
side dash cross to
stroke cross
brokefor
across icon
down stash
swing the
dashup check
i
dot
slide choose dot
is not a god in every letter
a dream stroke to the letter the world as instroke up the cross is to the letter and the word can try to better it slipper it isn't the choice of a letter
every belief you have ever had
?
You see I see these things fall from their own openings Brokens laced together by brokens forced together
To be apart all the time I see these things
Some kinda rip in what I see
From inside the eyewell The rip apparent The dip into the eyelids torn from inside
The mouth inside the eyeball is a quiet scream dot dot slash I feel
My eyes
Into my skull
The rip apparent
From inside what I see
You see I'm grounded in a space that allows me
To look up at the morning sun and happily and without apology
Wonder about the new day
The suckering chance
The sucking cup of child
The tentacle of child The gouge of my eyes Fluid ink
Sacs of dot
The dash of a space without apology dot dot
Every icon of beauty has its vanity Every letter has its devil day And is not every letter you have ever had some kinda involvement Some kinda dash dot stroke dash dit with Some kinda rip I'm in
Some kinda ground I'm grounded in
This space trying to open
The mouth from inside the eyeball
Yawning the dip into fractures
Fractures
Broken sky holes from inside
Announcing her parrot beak elegy without apology
I
Grounded in
I
Allow
Me
To fall
Into
Elegy without apology
The ground opening
The eyeball bursting
Declaring Her‘ology
Without apology...you see
I see these things fall apart all the time Calling me to the rip in what I see
The suckering into wonder
I dot dot dot but not yet
Side stroke octamortalia Ink sacs of dot dot doctopi
but not yet
Slash Pus letters dash fluid crot
not but not
not dot not but not
not