BP ******* the gulf of Mexico,
its tenants slick with oil, dirty
like my sisters face dyed
lime green and brown with fruit
roll-ups and Dove chocolate bunnies.
I wanted to sink and disappear,
split in thirds and sink into the
Chesapeak, filled with brackish
water, covered in wild celery
and eurasion watermilfoil,
but of course, I could never
do that, just as the rabbit
could never taste Trix
because you can't reverse
age. I knew I was smart,
but there was so much to
learn, so much I didn't know.
My mother always told me,
"If you would only apply
youself, you could go so far."
I wanted to go so far, her
voice could never reach me,
fingers - short, dirt-caked - would
never brush against my arm
again and then.
Then


I


Flew.
Charcoal and teal feathers
burst from my skin in a frenzy
of blood. I never landed, but
I never took off either.
Anyone with sense knows human
bones are too heavy for flight,
could never be hollow, could never
sprout wings. For my birthday,
I wanted to sink into my chair,
ashamed, unseen, but instead,
I got a digital cherry camera
with 3x zoom lens eyeball.