Do I have sparkles on my butt?
No seriously.
They would be red or maybe green.
Glitzy and obscene
The kind you find on scrawl needle Christmas tree
made from macaroni
I remember draping
bath towels
over the curtain rods.
I didn't have
faith
the venetian blinds
I told my big brother Ben I saw him in Kaunakakai with Puanani. He pretended it wasn't him but later admitted he didn't go hunting. He said her grandmother’s number was scrawled on the Ancient Hawaiian Moon Calendar and he phoned Puanani when our grandmother was taking a nap. Instead of going hunting, he'd stashed Gramma's rifle behind a kiawe tree and hitchhiked west. It had been Ben's third trip.
the tree beyond my barred window
the clustered acrimony
or sweet insinuation of lemons
the hand of air that is their seasonal reprieve
from the everlasting ordinary
nothingness of tongues or compost