Gilroy

I,
Driving a gypsied road through a pasture of cows,

Dewed. I
Settled in a morning, on a hoofed patch of earth.

All mothers are birthed in Gilroy,
California. They hide beneath javelins, their bulbous

Wombs warming in the soil. All our largest
Creations are called Elephant,

Let’s remember this. I
Think if you pulled the hair at the pit

Of my arm, you’d discover something
Like a clove of garlic. I

Warn you.
My children will know all of this is true,

I
Whisper in a morning to a hoofed patch of earth.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under words

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