my
[grand]mother moved out
of her body
decided it
was no longer worthy
it couldn't contain her laughter
she couldn't obey the house
rules of human
her spirit
that young & fresh fever
wanted to call the night her dance club
wanted to try on new clothes
stay out later
my [grand]mother now wears the world
dresses herself with the tall grass
blushes her cheeks with red clay
she laughs & a forest fire awakens
she laughs & every mountain bows
to her sharp thunder
she laughs
& each cicada begins to sing
last night Saint Paul was cloaked in steam:
fog traveled from some distant heat
no, i think
you've got it all wrong
someone must have asked my [grand]mother
to dance
—DEATH AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A
SONG
