portion of the artwork for Michael Dwayne Smith's poetry

We Cover Our Heads from Light
Michael Dwayne Smith

Hunched over women walk through town, homes
hitched to their backs. Random men
stand around, forgive themselves little by little, for fifty years.
Boys stain shirts, girls twirl toes, wondering where they’ll fit in.

Everyone either a mule or a poet.
Everyone waits at night to wake in a different world.

Everybody awakes angry skin oiled in dreamy ferment.
Everybody awake drinking feigned disappointment.

A man on the corner of boy-stained streets
holds out daisies to a woman who spins to the ground.

Her stocking feet stick out from under the plank house.
Which witch? Everybody wants to know.
Everyone wishes a secret wish when her toes curl up to heaven.
Everyone wants it quick and painless, mostly based on television.

Hunched over our microwavable mac and cheese dinners,
we say to a sad girl on TV, “That’s a beautiful hat.”

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 41 | Summer 2013