After the Drawings of Emmeline Grangerford

“They was different from any pictures I ever see before—blacker, mostly, than is common.”

—The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Shall I Never See Thee More Alas

When finally I could speak I begged for black,bonnet string to boot-toe. Sitting in the graveyardwaiting be taken, I memorizeddeath-dates carved on tombs. No one came to cry.

Weeping willow on a pillow,gondola grounded in Oklahoma,I asked the moon to go inside its canyons.I asked the moon to swallow itself in the sky.

And when it did—

        still I did not die.Where was the death I was promised,the heartless ticking I know I knewbefore my life began?

And Art Thou Gone Yes Thou Art Gone Alas

Teacher called me to the chalkboard        nonce equations lay horizontal :: the long day ::            across Father’s lap    as he beat us every night :: Mother weeping softly                nightly as he fucked her / I                    strained            to hear the sound.In front of the class I found I could not speak.

When I was born, as I traveled through Mother,Father went outside and shot a deer.The soul of the deer flew to Heavenand St. Peter pushed it down. Teacher,

the word for what happened there is Ejected.

I Shall Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas

A girl I used to sew with sang the Lord forgives.I think I pushed her down a well. I thinkI pushed her down the well of my mind, I can’tremember. The Lord forgives and gives and givesand so for what, for what, for so and so, and sofor what I do not know. Did I say no? I meantI will not tell. Here I am, Lord, sitting on the pewnext to Father, his erection just visible.

[Unfinished]

Lord, why did Mother go so frequently to town    for more supplies?She came back with a sharpened piece of charcoal    and then my life beganin my hand and my hand drew a hole    in which I spent the night.It touched another time and place. It was all a big mistake    and I liked it.        I found out about Orpheus            and don’t look back.        I saw neon and gay men and            needle-drugs and v-necks.

    Mother went to townfor more supplies    and came back with another man’s love.She told me while I was sleeping

Fuckingmeans finding the hole in what you want.

    I ripped the moon.    I asked the moon    to go and so    it vanished into its canyons    but the canyons raged like a faceful of acne,    and, bubbling,    they grew the moon anew.

As you say, Mother—I put my brothers to sleep.

My brothers I set them downthen tried to rip with secretsbut they saw me comingand shut their minds.

My own mind opened like a chest on a barber’s table.Thus I fucked my very self, Teacher,over around and through.

Down the well the little girlI do not remember I pushed my Father Nothingto cry about—there’s plenty of water thereHardly no one held me even the arms of the lawAt breakfast Father what have you done

They put flowers on my grave.

They cover my drawings with cloth.

They look for me in the sky.

Look down below, Mother.

Come down here and get me.