Rescue Me from Ladder 49

 

Saw another picture of my brother climbing a ladder

how high does he have to climb to get our mother’s attention?

to say nothing of our father

 

you can’t ask him, not directly. I doubt he’d do anything but angry things

you can’t talk at him; all his hummingbirds are dead

 

dead, I’m afraid, yes. the water keeping his heart alive has gone toxic, no bird washes

itself there any longer

 

dinosaur teeth can be quickly swept up from the stream’s stony bank, collected all in the palm of one’s hand. I can see this all from where I’m hanging from my ankles upside down

 

hummingbirds and dinosaur teeth, how exciting! my brother is somewhere between the second and third floors. he hollers down, something about leg day if his words are not mistaken

 

there is still room for mountains of misunderstanding. I’ll climb each summit, reach each peak, if only to see my brother on his ladder from wherever I end up, wherever I contact frostbite and die

 

humming what? humming some forgotten song by Sum 41, a song my brother might be able to hear, somewhere between the 10th and 11th floor, on his ladder

 

or Dierks Bentley if I want to piss him off

 

I was laughing with him, not at him, but he’d never know that, not from high up there

 

so I slap my naked palms on the wall below him, feel the concussive impacts spread out through the wall’s framework, feel my palms absorb the white-hot pain of each slap; my bones devoured

 

I don’t think he means for me to see those pictures like this, but I also know he doesn’t read poetry, and I doubt he’d understand what I’m trying to say, to say nothing of what I did say

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s