Crazy Aunt Curry

Nothing

    good...

nothing good ever came

from a branch

stuck 

in the window

of your aunt's house.

Black tangled 

ivy, running

through eyelashes.

Sweating 

lips.

Crumbs

on the soap

of dishes last-night...

Nothing

   good

can come.

Bleach

This is the bleach on the walls.

Where I want to live.

Where I was born to become from.

Grey clouds make droplets of tasteful love

leftover petals

from the honey flower I chewed.

Mother called

& through the clean screen door

I smelled warm bread

& the plastic of our short rug.

In a kind of heavenly happiness

I float inside the room

laughing sweetly

with everyone else around me.

What a comfort,

what a clean slate.