jean valentine

 

LITTLE HOUSE

 

 

Little house

clay house

 

thousands of funeral smell

ground swell

 

we knew

the boat of right action

 

but the road rubbed out

—water gone!

 

—the dead girl gone!

(was she pregnant?)

 

dishes blew by

I searched my hollowsrubble

 

Burnt grass teach me

before I forget you

 

into a time

when I sit and roar

 

over the flowers

and don’t know them