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And then there was Childhood, the Arthritic Root of Speculation

Pouring gasoline over the family dog’s back—chocolate
cowering—a potential explosion & then, loose lost fur
patches fall among the ivy—not unlike panties, a blurry
fantasy—voice like a seraphim’s a cappella—a choate

motion, the cheerleader drops her pompoms—a spate
of tongues & moisture—the lunatic’s directive: lure
her family back, rupture the gas line—her dog’s chaotic,
an exploding potential—& then, loosened & lost, fir

needles land upon your shoulders—the season’s late
in your growth chart—I speak of reflection, a scorn
excised—alone, you march away from sound, a worn
worried path—a chickadee thrums—a lamb bleats
over its family—the dogs bark them in line—collated
cowering—a potential explosion—your lost loose fur.