4 stars

there was a wasp nest on the back porch
it looked like dead honeycomb
outside was a hornet’s hive
I stuck my hand out there
the sun buzzed loudly
nothing could bite me
a caterpillar did
I climbed its tree
it kissed me with its back
its hair was sharp
enough to leave four stars
spinning in my palm
the world spun through my arms
and crashed onto our street
so I picked it up
at the back of the backyard
was a rusty shed falling apart
inside it I swear there was a giant sleeping
I woke him told him my dreams
and led him humming
back into our yellow kitchen
the countertops were always covered in top soil
my mother loved to garden
and to collect marbles inside of mason jars
we were never allowed to touch them
I loved the smell of the air conditioner
there was one in the dining room
and one in my parents’ bedroom
putting my face in front of the vents
made me feel like Sunday
I could bike the whole square of the block in two minutes flat
my friends Jalal, Put, and Rue lived around the corner from us
there was a tree in front of their house
too big to be a birch
my friend Samandar lived two fence hops away
his mother showed mine what God looked like
God He smelled like my father
both their beards were black bears
me and Mom went fishing in the park
I caught two catfish
and waited for them to die
they swam in circles inside of our refrigerator
because I had never learned how to kill anything
in Mississippi we ate every single perch that I caught
the grasshoppers there?
they are the size of an Almond Joy
my sister she had a pet rat
part of his ear was gone
his name was Pierre
I named my mouse after a favorite book
Charlotte’s Web
she is buried under a white rock in the backyard
the day our dog died
Pops found him hanging on the clothesline
I cried into my pillow
I was ten years old
I could fit under the house
my knees didn’t care
neither did the dark
after the tub
the hallway from the bath’s room to mine
was a dark tunnel
breathing only to swallow me whole
I shivered
and was more afraid of that walk
than anything ever since
even now there are moments
where it still shakes me
but there were times when the night
sat beside me on my bed quietly
like it was a big man
who had to do what I told him to do
he was too dumb
or he loved me too much
either way he had the same smile
I ain’t never been stung by a bee before
not my whole life

From Over the Anvil We Stretch (Write Bloody Publishing, 2008) by Anis Mojgani. Copyright © 2008 by Anis Mojgani. Used with the permission of the author.