MY GREAT AUNT SETSUKO, and: A GIANT ASLEEP IN FORTUNE’S SPINDLE, and: MY GREAT AUNT SETSUKO, and: LEUKEMIA, and: A GIANT ASLEEP IN FORTUNE’S SPINDLE

MY GREAT AUNT SETSUKO

If Setsuko is in the field and the field is strawberryIf Setsuko is in the middle of the field and the middle of the field is strawberryAnd there is strawberry about Setsuko’s headAnd Setsuko’s head is about the circumstances of SetsukoStanding in the middle of the fieldCutting the corners off

She is hopefulAnd she is agelessAnd as her body deteriorates in the middle of the fieldSetsuko becomes emboldenedBy the consequence of deteriorationShe lets it happen, soon enough

What is it about Setsuko that makes her head so easy?Hopefulness and agelessness, the mystery of a dying woman’s nipplesPainstakingly bitten intoBy someone with whom she is relatedYet someone she’ll never know, that is one thingDemanding about a head that is so easyLiving in this minute is not so easy

Setsuko does not want to deteriorate. She has no strengthFor death, her agelessness is a reproachTo the feeling she’s already deadThat surrounding her—flowers, maggots, jade mushrooms, colonial bugsIs everything she has earnedTotemizing strawberries in the dark

Setsuko is waiting for the strawberry to breakHer bones are darker than she thoughtPressing through her skin. She keeps her childrenSweating for the taste of whatThey do not know is going quiet

A GIANT ASLEEP IN FORTUNE’S SPINDLE

I saw today the ocean swarmA million sightless eyesBlue infants in resinous wavesDeracinated soulsFruiting bittersweet execrationsThe moment I left I recognized nothingWithin the scrolling derangement of the swarmThe ocean’s necropolis widening a second sunThe moment I left I recognized emptinessBecame homesickAnd shut down

Inside crying and the vomit, homesicknessHome is waitingMelancholy is waitingWithout knowing if what I am waiting for existsWaiting is placeless Smoke thenTall orangesNipple, nipple, navelInventory of human afterlife is deprivation

Will I be able to hauntThe way I want? Cut from the unfolding fanInto the first surface of another’s bodyUntil hunger straightens

I have been in the water, brother, eating one anotherUnless I foreswear I am a child, I cannot go anywhere

MY GREAT AUNT SETSUKO

I am in a room and my children are in a roomWhile I am in one room my children are in another roomThe bright sport of my bloodI wash their legs and arms and assholes withA Persian apple-scented spongeAnd comb their hair and brush their hairAnd sing songs through my earsWhen I turn out the light, I hear their feetI put their toes into my mouthWhen they were younger, they are olderI cannot understand what they are sayingBut I know where they are coming fromAnd it makes me nervousThe Persian apple-scented sponge sits on a porcelain dishI keep above the bathroom mirrorOut of the reach of my childrenTheir toes taste like gunpowder and saltTheir sheets remind me of the oceanPouring ashes into the ocean

LEUKEMIA

They painted the airplanes vibrantPerfectly charmless colorsThen the airplanes took offTrailing wet paintLike a mission, the airplanes excused themselvesInto the sun, leaving the earthA ruin of paint, long mounds of vibrantPerfectly charmless colorsInjected with cosmeticsThe people were made to drinkAs the long mound seeped intoThe earth, the people were bound toFly an airplane? In an airplane?Excuse themselves into the sun?All colors seeping into oneWhite blood

A GIANT ASLEEP IN FORTUNE’S SPINDLE

Leave me here and when you want meSound the place and all around itIn the distance I look onOrion to the west Fairy science Future humanEyes hung in the darkTrembling spirits, fathoms lower, mating withThe poet rememberingThe wallWhere shadows...