Upheaval

It’s all your fault

When my minutes miscarry, fall and shatter like jars of pickled embryos, splatter redness like a cherry pitted far too long ago; the juice stains your linoleum

And it’s all your fault

When my climbing trees crumple with winter’s chemotherapy

When buzzing needles sting my eyes

When smiles come and pass

Leaving salt rain on my lashes and bones in my wardrobe

It’s all your fault

When summer tracks acid on my shoes, it won’t wash off with time nor garden hose, so my feet must walk the coals of being left behind, forever striving towards frostbite

And it’s all my fault.

When universes like marbles crash and splinter into dust

When a 40-year desert unfurls itself on your linoleum

When the flowers on your favorite jacaranda tree don’t blossom, but look on as unawaited toads with wrinkled eyebrows and grim smiles, lips tasting of soggy Frosted Flakes in a gray liquid

It’s all my fault

When the earth roars

When the sea breaks

When your voice drips with so much acid that it burns your tongue

It’s all my fault

I hope he stabs me

For blood instead of blame.

640px-Hammond_Piper_burning_1

Image credit: By Krystian Olszanski from Saskatoon, Canada – Organ burnin’Uploaded by clusternote, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17392742

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