(no subject)

[manawa]

This is how it goes
on the Tuesday afternoon of your undoing
your baby plays in front
of a surrogate Barney
and you type out
the tick of your life
each stroke like a symbal
crashing on every downbeat
in the finale

the final movement is here
it heaves up my collarbone
and swan dives down
to a thud in my hips
i am beating it out the
3 4 of a family going down
the 1 2 of my hands on the wheel
and as his little arms sneak around my middle
for his morning cuddle i feel the brass
slide in lightly
making the saddest parts
from the sweetness of a major third
and he is, isn't he
a major third

Tuesday Tuesday brings down the last
system of undoing
the timpanies are pounding in my
head and my toasted sandwiches are disappointing
it is coming now
the long held notes of a mother on the floor
spaced out by the heaving in
I'm laying it on you now
turtled tucked by the dishwasher
until I feel his little hands
resting on the nape of my neck
smoothing me down
tapping out
a resolution