after “Clown Marionette” by Alma Thomas, circa 1935
matted hair my grandmothers pulled out in their sleep
trees that held their backs
well mixed watercolor tea
and whale intestine
*
white paper i waxed and blackened with every crayon in the box
popsicle sticks i collected the slow way
the blue of candied teeth
and fraying frizzy yarn
*
flannel
clarinet reed
hypercolor
spiral plugged-in phone
*
dayplanner covers
stacked soles of platform shoes
newspaper ink
flatiron cord
*
the jeans i wore until they fell apart
the floors of dorm room nights
the printer acrylic of t-shirt transfers
the ropes that lift the windows
*
glued spines of books
reclaimed church fan handles
blood
cheese
*
photocopied poems
cheryll’s picture frame
markers staining fingers
yard grass
*
letters of invitation
well-maintained forest trails
likes
luggage tags
*
boarding passes
tea stirrers
honey
the word yes
*
blanket sweatpants
houseplant stems
spice mix
mask loops
*
most of the fabric is paper
most of the wood is actually wood
most of the paint is edible
most of the string is still here