name is a windy thing quiet down a hall leaks through hinges does it want to be caught?I don’t know, tipped fangs, fire-points— want to be caught?I think people bundle a name with them from place to place in a basement, a bottleof winda bottle of turn-it-overI have so much holler in me
Gam said you’ll talksomeday, you’ll tell your own hi girl, hi spoon, my ear saidwhere is your applesaucea thumb knowsbye, tell the door for the step hi, that lift-footGam’s sheeny dress setting me on the grass blades bounce under my legssquirrels chuckle with each what-I-want