in my mind

the rain has been

a bus to three houses

where nobody is home

and I decided I am not dead

and the windows

the starving windows

that drive raindrops

like steel screws into my heart

and Now I am

slowly growing and melting

like a kitten of butter

my books open

arms to greet me

those who reach into my blood

the windows

the starving windows

drive nails into my heart

I have not deep fried

my hold on the fishy

taste of grinding lemongrass

and the song of

the wind on dirt fields

the windows

the starving windows

like nails into my heart

where my

dreams are just feeding family

and sighing through storms

and tear out my lawn

and the dogs, peas, corn, the willow

all get buried