Elegy for My Mother’s Daughter

Dear Ma

I inherit your laughter and ferry it to a future you cannot follow me to

Snapping the ribs of a song creates a new one

I won’t call it better,

but I will call it at 2 a.m. when my throat’s battery indicator is a thin red traffic line I
swerve through, my voice hungry for the break of a rule

When a rule breaks, powder puffs out, and if you breathe this dust, you become a rule,
and it isn’t pretty

Ma, I am not a son, and you are not just a mother

I think a part of me is the daughter you always wanted,
but everyone wants me to be a
rule, so I hollow the inside of my body and live in it

Hallowed is the ground you walk, so remove your sandals says god, and I take off my
feet

When I was little, I believed money was a unit of measure for freedom

Now I know it’s much worse than that

Prophets don’t proffer for profit in opposite land

When I want to remember a time before I was born, I listen to the sound of rushing
water