Out of heat loss and emptiness
I am constructing a sculpture
in the front yard. I am five.
I have taken the Flinstones play car
and filled it with soil. I am planting
pinecones there
and golden globs of banana.
Years later,
I will compare myself to you in the supermarket
when I am buying bananas
and everyone will smile nervously.
I will use everything you owned
because there will be nothing else.
There will be newspaper.
I am the void fitting itself with pajamas.
I am tricked-out. I am gorging on you.
You tell me in a dream how I could cut loose
from gravity
easy as a balloon.
You can hear me singing.
That is how you know I am mid-flight.
For my friend Joshua Gottlieb-Miller.
"Elegy for a Miscarried Brother" was first published in SUB-LIT (vol. 2, no. 3).