Birdbones By Cassidy Black

BIRDBONES

i am borderline and smiling
with two fingers down my throat
and no way out

the hospital light filters in
through plexiglass windows

the nurses wrapped me up
in gauze and silvadene
hawk-eyed critics of how
i tried to survive my self

allowed no more than two blankets
in february
when my birdbones crave the warmth
of wool and we can’t go outside

doctor’s orders

the nurse i hate makes me
clean up my own vomit
when i eat too many funyuns
on a good day

in a dream:
i am not crying at the dinner table
i am not a dead man’s daughter

i am fourteen trips around the sun
i am the goddamn miracle

By Cassidy Black

Biography:

Cassidy Black is a small-town poet and op-ed article contributor for her local newspaper. She has attended Winter Tangerine’s summer writing workshop at Poets House, NYC. She collects postcards, glass bottles, and experiences she can write about.

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Connecting to %s