metabolizing unfixable
with a half stick of dynamite, a hand-carved sled, and a horse named 'ole lead' big pap snatched coal from the creek bed to heat the heart speck of puncheon creek first holler principles solved before my first holler back november 3, 1969, bootlegged creek heat smuggled all my bodies all the way here, just to learn what is worth the carry like the flowers i picked for granny by the steps of the old rock church where red and brunette brides chimed, became sisters, where families were born the old rock church sits abandoned now bombed by out of mindedness her hill still clings to the climb behind it though quarter mile straight up through copperhead country through the green throat of kudzu swallowing what we meant to keep on up her hill my people are marked by chain link, plastic flowers and mossy stones older than the year granny died at 104, but, in the years before, dad and uncle gordon carried hoes to kill snakes, swung blades through vine-choke like surgeons cutting toward a pulse climbed that hill alongside granny to talk with the hive mind of puncheon creek, swarm liturgy tethered like umbilical cords to a path you wouldn't know was there, unless you saw a four-wheeler loaded with ribbons, flowers and hoes week before memorial day our dead tell you they're hungry on up her hill, granny's body is missing but, over a hill in jackson… so close to mcdonald's you can hear drive thru big macs and catch the hot bag smell …she's buried next to papaw, mom uncle bert and marvin daddy and aunt opha have their plots staked, claims on a country that keeps redrawing its borders in the dark i have one, earth bought for the hole it becomes thresholds: drive-thru window hidden graveyard hillside a bar's neon glow on an empty dance floor the ridge itself, all the same fading picture of a swinging bridge that ain't up to either one anymore when i go through the drive-thru for fries and an ice cream cone, i am visiting the way astronauts visit a revolving airlock on a space station, the seal itself a chapel where no one kneels but everyone prays my plot will stay open- - - a story that won't contain my ashed body but, is all my bodies: watery eyes, carrying hoes, barrel chested creek folk that once built a womb from a rock church but, is all my bodies: dancing in new orleans disco tabernaculums where hips once flung questions at each other in a fleshy particle collider set to groove mode but, is all my bodies: trying to live work learn play and pray in a shiny city on a hill matter becoming light becoming grief becoming matter again all my bodies shed skin hanging translucent proof on everything_