Jasper

I laid my head on an orchid field

at the feet of the yellow King

 

and begged him to kiss my children

to sleep

 

But when he opened my veins

he recoiled

 

at the scent of aluminum

 

and bleach

 

dragged his yellow hands

through his yellow hair

 

and grew a poppy root there, instead

 

Bury me here then, brother

 

Watch my crawl

into sickly sweet Elysium

 

and guard my children from my veins

lest they tumble as children tumble

 

part cloth, part legs

into the open ground