After You Shout

By | 1 February 2015

After you shout at the child
we drive past pine branches
stacked on the side of the road
and I want to make a home
of these materials
in which she can live.
You will be faraway
or incommoded as in tales.
Between here and there
is a modest upstairs flat lit low.
It’s not clear that this is my new life,
not clear that I can build the pine shelter
and leave it for her—or that
this is what the shelter becomes in the day.
The music playing is diegetic
but it’s a sound
that does not suit us all.

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