Severed Thoughts of a Blessing
The trees in her yard. I can look them
in the eye. My grandmother throwing the football
My grandmother teaching me things on the phone
like how to clean a fish
A factory, its catch-all basket catching watches
wedding-rings. A tattoo being twisted past the knuckle
All the ways a man can lose his finger. A thimble
for love that is more like a helmet
Being alone. I think of being alone
until by thought I am guaranteed. There’s newspaper
laid on the garage floor. The fish I attempted
to learn on. There’s blood, the drying muscles
my grandmother’s voice saying
Go ahead, you can eat the bones
Wow, Britt. I am not sure where to begin here. I won’t gush because gushing sounds disingenuous in print.
The images of the factory and the fish are my favorites. I found myself reading this part over repeatedly:
A factory, its catch-all basket catching watches,
wedding-rings.
I like the odds and ends that are everywhere here and all woven together so deftly. This is terrific stuff. Truly.
i love this one, it is so sincere and beautiful.