My Family Left the House in the Woods

by Jess Turner
after Amy died on the street. What pain- thread. What I would give to keep my family in their bodies. A letter arrives from father: The whole point is to not THINK so as to not FEEL anything. Bronzed baby shoes  captive to living their last posture. See  the other night, I was standing so still in the kitchen with that letter, so sorry I could have fallen through the floor. Yes, when the rabbit is dead, we carry her foot against our bodies. I understand now how a broken clock keeps  telling a time  & here, I gather  every pain-thread in the throat—  laundry chute of the living. You can abandon a house from the inside.

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