THE FROG WIFE
After Millhauser
Livia Franchini
Like peeling back a poinsettia blossom
or a concept of iceberg proportions
Language can be thick with flesh both
that; & very deep & very cold
A sugary rope, same taste
in the teeth as pink mouse
Somebody’s babies
They cross the street and you let them walk on
Once they make it to the other side
you spin around looking for their parents
The children disappear from view
And you’ve lost your train of thought
Chewing on the long beard of language
its granular bristle full of Os
It is a strange city you live in
buildings as grey as Dumbo
& before you know
You are a burning hot dot
And you have forgotten to take your son home