CAIRN
I have stacked
here for you
a mound of berries
a pyramid almost
raspberries black
cherries blueberries
all in wait
for your tongue
your lips
the feel of your teeth
on my finger
as you take
each berry
into your mouth
WAIT
a red ant sits
on the second hand
before, the phone
jumped, a spider
I couldn’t keep still
Now it lies dormant,
a tired puppy
the window freezes cracks
yet does not shatter
I hold a lead pipe
for that sort of thing
and when the phone rings
it is always not you
pronouns: he/him
I identify as QUILTBAG (bi/pan), neurodivergent (anxiety requiring multiple hospitalizations/GAD/SAD/depression/suspected by a number of mental health professionals of being on the autism spectrum but not tested because “the tests are expensive and you’re too old for the treatment methodologies to do anything”), and disabled (arthritis since 1992, now walking with a cane over 90% of the time/chronic bloodborne cellulitis resulting in multiple multi-week hospitalizations/heart attack). [New! Improved! Now officially listed as disabled by the U.S. government as of 3Mar2020!] Now fall into the “older” category (50+). Adopted and entirely unfamiliar with my (birth) family history.
