pangaea's slip

pangaea's slip
threw us all off course
wrestling between
tundra and a tidal wave
I have a mind to wreck something awful
mother nature said
and everything else all
will just have to wait
how it must have been
the pterodactyl the
fern the crustacean
as the earth began to shift
under themselves
the mothers cower and cover
children with their bodies
the waters ebb and shake
fraught with our small images of earthquakes
and it is impossible to imagine

I look at you in this moment
and I tell you it seems
impossible that you ever had a mother
there is so much emptiness
and iron
and you remind me of her
death
like justification
pulled spilt flinging
ammunition
I have you in my bony little hands
and like this
it will be easy

there was the first time
my small pet mouse died
she was grey and plump and
named sugar
a few months later there was another mouse
and a rabbit, a cat, a mouse,
a rabbit, an iguana, a mouse, a cat, an iguana
and several fish
and they are all buried
in one small corner of that yard that was once ours
in Illinois
under mulch and a hammock

I turn to you in the middle of the night asking
"do you think if you bought a house and there was a
graveyard of animals in the backyard that you would want to know about it?"
I am wondering what I should do
It is keeping me awake at night

It is not my fault you have no experience with this
that you only know about dead
mothers
what do I do about all those little animals still
clutching in rigor mortis form
buried with the ferns
a tremble
of their ancient selves
10 inches deep
who do I tell

pangaea slipped
the earth fell in
and I have buried my babies
they are a jumble
under the dirt in Illinois
and I will think
that they hold hands with their sisters of antiquity
with seahorse and shell
and with this I will sleep