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Mark Cox
- University of Pittsburgh Press
- Chapter
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4 Mark Cox Mark CoxteachesintheDepartmentof CreativeWritingatUniversityof NorthCarolina–WilmingtonandintheVermontCollegeMFAProgram.His honorsincludeaWhitingWriters’Award,aPushcartPrize,andnumerous fellowships.Heistheauthorof threebooksof poems:NaturalCauses,ThirtysevenYearsfromtheStone ,andSmoulder. 4 Mark Cox Pail of Eggs Thelandisonlygroundnow. Nofootpaths,noruins,noteven aslabwheretherootcellarstood. Still,thereistheslapof ascreendoor whenmysonexitsthecar, thesquealof awellpump whenmyyoungestwantsjuice, andthereIaminthesproutingfieldcorn, backbrownasmud,crewcutblond asthepailof eggsI’veneverputdown. Theadultsarestillpatient, awaitingbreakfastintheirgraves, thebaconstilldiminishing intheblackenedpan. NooneknowswhereIam. Half-grown,tousledcandleof aboy, Ihavewalkedtowherethevulturelanded, tohisrunwayof symmetricalrows wherethefox,lamewithpoison, swallowedherlastbreath. Faceup.Eyeswidenedandclear. WhereverIgofromhere, Iwillnotgohungry. Sill Onthekitchensill, inthesquarebrickhouse myauntagedanddiedin, theflawlesshand-blownpear willneitherrotnorlast. Mydaughter,tooyoung toeverthinkof thisagain, [44.211.117.101] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 10:28 GMT) 4 Mark Cox oncetookitdown andplaceditinabowl, withthebreakfastoranges. She’dthoughtitlonely,Iguess, withjustthesunlightagainstit, thatsinglebreath, exhaled,perhaps,justafterlunch, smellingof cheeseandpeachschnapps. Dustisthepollenof ourdying, evenchildrensensethis, andaftershe’dwipeditclean withherflowereddress, shehelditsuspended byitsdelicate,disproportionatestem andlowereditintothewoodenbowl. Hergreat-aunt,though, hadlittlepatiencewithdisorder, couldn’tbeartheclean,unblemishedoutline whereithadoriginallybeen, andthatwasthat. Momentsago,afterassurancethatherfamily wouldallrecognizeeachotherinheaven, mydaughteraskedwhowouldtakecareof herthings. AndwhenIsaidherbabiescould,shecautioned thatbabiescan’teventakecareof themselves. Neithercanwe,of course,nevertallenough toreachthelightswitchourselves, neverabletodrinkfromthewall-mountedfountainof awareness, westuff ourpocketswithbeadsandbottle-caps, weorganizeourknick-knacksasbestwecan. Myaunt’ssquat,miniaturetracthousewasrazed. Herwindowsillexistsonlyintheheavenof children. Thepear,itcouldbeanywhere, 4 Mark Cox likethelastbreathof theoldGermanwhomadeit. Likewise,herporcelainsalters andthehummingbirdhovering atitsglassflower. Like a Simile Fellintobedlikeatree sleptlikeboilingwater gotupfrombedlikeacamel andshoweredlikeatinroof. Wentdownstairslikeaslinky drovetoworklikeawaterskier enteredthetrailerlikeabadsmell whereIchangedclotheslikeaburnvictim drankmycoffeelikeamosquito andwaitedlikeabusstop. Awhistleblew. ThenIpaintedlikeIwasinaknifefightforeighthours dranklikeaburningbuilding drovehomelikeabankshot unlockedthedoorlikeajeweler andenteredthehouselikeanargumentnextdoor. Thedogsmiledlikeachainsaw. Thewifepretendedtobeasleep Ipretendedtoeat. Shelayonthebedlikeamattress Isatatthetablelikeachair. UntilIinchedalongthestairraillikeasprinkler enteredlikesmokefromafireinthenextroom andapologizedlikeatoaster. ThecoversdidnotopenlikeIwasanenvelope andshewasa-hourteller soIundressedlikeanapprenticematador discoveringbullshitonhisshoes. [44.211.117.101] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 10:28 GMT) 4 Mark Cox likethelastbreathof theoldGermanwhomadeit. Likewise,herporcelainsalters andthehummingbirdhovering atitsglassflower. Like a Simile Fellintobedlikeatree sleptlikeboilingwater gotupfrombedlikeacamel andshoweredlikeatinroof. Wentdownstairslikeaslinky drovetoworklikeawaterskier enteredthetrailerlikeabadsmell whereIchangedclotheslikeaburnvictim drankmycoffeelikeamosquito andwaitedlikeabusstop. Awhistleblew. ThenIpaintedlikeIwasinaknifefightforeighthours dranklikeaburningbuilding drovehomelikeabankshot unlockedthedoorlikeajeweler andenteredthehouselikeanargumentnextdoor. Thedogsmiledlikeachainsaw. Thewifepretendedtobeasleep Ipretendedtoeat. Shelayonthebedlikeamattress Isatatthetablelikeachair. UntilIinchedalongthestairraillikeasprinkler enteredlikesmokefromafireinthenextroom andapologizedlikeatoaster. ThecoversdidnotopenlikeIwasanenvelope andshewasa-hourteller soIundressedlikeanapprenticematador discoveringbullshitonhisshoes. 4 Mark Cox Style Today,acoedwithablackeye andbruisedcheekstoppedme inthehalltoask,anxiously, wheredoesoneput“Jr.” accordingtostandardmanuals onstyle? “Injail?”Isaid.“No,really,”shesaid, “Thisisimportant.” Natural Causes Becausemysonsawtheroundhaybales— 00poundsapiece,shrink-wrappedinwhiteplastic— liningthefields, wehavehadtosearchallevening formarshmallows. Twostoreswereout.Another hadonestaleandshrunkenbag. Thefourthhadthreebags,butnowoodforfire, sowewentbacktothefirst. AndIneedednewspapertostartthekindling, whichishowIknowEarlSoftydiedMonday, athome,inhissleep,of naturalcauses.Sorarely weknowhowweknowwhatweknow. Don’tturnthepage.Sitwithusawhile, herebythefireinNewHampshire. Haveamarshmallow. BecausemywifeandIloveeachother andwantedsomethingof,andmorethan,ourselves; becausemylittlesonhasimaginedheaveninthepastureland, evendeathtastessweet. [44.211.117.101] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 10:28 GMT) 4 Mark Cox After Rain Sometimes,nightquieted, what’srealsoaksinfurther; themeshscreensgemmedbyhalogen, myneighbors’doorbellswitch likeamoonwithinreach, theliliesnoddingontheirstems likeexhaustedhorsemen. Deniedtheoldillusionof ownership, Ihaveopenedsomehow, butforonce,nothingisleavingorlessened. Thejourneyislong. Thejourneyisnotlong. Mothsdrinktheirfillatthescreens, thecaughtrainglistening. Whatconsciousmoment isnot,inessence,worship; whatstatemorevulnerable thantheattentivemindupturned? Webearforthoursparksfrompsychicfire, eachfamilyaseriesof containedblazes, eachpatiotorchasignalpyre, ourlongingeternal, andthoughtheskinthins, ourinnerlivesgrowcold, thereis,always,thisblackfrock nightfalloffers— thecomfort,finally, of tendernessandhumilityandweakness, thecalmafterrain andbeforetheslate’sclearing. 4 Mark Cox Ashes, Ashes Snow.Anit’sweight onthehairof ournecks, theblessedhostof thepast, rightthere,justso. Turnintoit,thisonce. It’stimetobecomethelakesurface, timetoclaimyourface. Soonthepresent willcoolenoughtotouch, youcanlayyoudown intheoutlineyouoncewere, smokestilladrift fromtheoriginalfire. Cupthemoth’sspark inyourhands. Openyourmouthandtake thedissolution onyourtongue. Nooneelseremembers allthatyouremember. If youdon’tcarryit, whowill? ...