Wednesday, October 5
They come with blankets and a Bandie
To disembowel the family home,
But they can’t shelve memories
In the recesses of a semi.
It’s Random Acts of Poetry Day
and I scribble hasty words of home
on the side of a book box.
There’s a leap and a yelp down by the truck,
and the iron men step aside while
my husband crawls under the cab
to arrest and release a would-be hitchhiker
When the van pulls away, D returns
to rescue the slithering sibling
who doesn’t seem to realize that
he, too, has been disemboweled.
And Matthew has disemboweled Haiti.