Island Life, page 1
Today, we might live anywhere,
Beneath a canyon or
Exit row or
The run-down farm home or
Three floors up
From the family and the cocaine and the concrete trucks
Trying to pour their pathways.
I smell construction and rain in the dust cells
And know that through it,
Some miles further, a bride walks down the aisle,
Her teeth unveiled like lemons
Dipped in sugary feathers.
I’m reminded that woman and bird
Take extra care of their beaks.
Today, feeding families, Forever—
Becoming professionals at first,
Then whatever, then scrounging around
The driveway in worm puddles.