Report in Left Desk Drawer

I whipped a bush with my jump rope,and all of the birds flew out to a tree.First day home. I’m asked to stop drinking.Dollhouse,meltwater sound from the heater,

melt, my hand, the heaterof ice in a glass,dog at the window, white blinds,bush dark and scented like a drawer.I whipped my mom’s holly bush with my long, weighted jump rope,but only the birds and fallen red berries came out.

My train outof the city took longer than usual,a man sat down next to a man with his fly unzipped,and we all were detained by the law.When I think of un-filed charges,I want to say gently the names

of my sisters, and I want to commit the namesof the people who’ve hurt my dear sisters to memory.The snow is still falling on the berries and whip,and if I were the animal I suspect is still hidingunder the holly’s dart leaves, I would stayvery still.