Drops her off at school,
returns to the yard full of wood
with peeling paint. We can wear
almost anything to the dance
since social strictures are fading,
in June especially. Also in June,
the dirt around the houses seems
more consumed by discarded oil.
Some homes are even sinking.
Writes this when she was
eight years old:
much better is texting, pink
imaginary birds, even canal water
than parents and creepy ministers.
Already we could see how
Hollywood had inundated and
molested her in dreams—precisely
those places where Satan thrives,
rubbing himself and giggling
like a little girl.
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