Laura Accerboni

At school

the girls

line up

according to the height

of their elbows.

It’s a new rule.

The mothers

outside

fill their shopping bags

with rocks

and hide

the receipts between their lips.

They each have a number

that identifies the birth,

that distinguishes “proper birth”

from “a proper distance.”

At home

the girls

drink lots of water

and dream

of strong elbows

to grapple with

as in a war.

Those who survive

get a snack.

The others race to the bathroom

to reflect

on their loss.

Have you any idea

how long it took

to dismember them

one by one

and remind

the gills

of the sea

under the faucet’s

hot jet

that you say

“turn off.”

And I reply

that it’s Christmas

and it’s normal

to have a tub

to freeze in.

And you’d better

not look,

you’re not old enough

while my fingers

slide down the back

splitting the breast

and scraping out the innards.

And you shout

that it’s Christmas

and we’re all

in danger

under the jet

of hot water

and you kick at the air

and carry me

gasping

away from the bathroom.

I thought

it was not right

for fish

to inhabit bodies

to decompose them

more rapidly

when man

drops them to the bottom

stuck maybe in cement

the feet

the ropes
and a bag around the head

so they will not be found.

One should not do this

to a fish:

force it

to swim between veins

and oblige it to learn

the pulmonary geography

of other species.

Yesterday the tallest boy

put a stone

between his teeth

and began to chew.

He showed

his mother

what a mouth can do

when pushed to extremes

and that a ransacked home

is only a ransacked home.

Yesterday all the tallest boys

made their enemies starve

and quickly gathered up their toys.

They showed their mothers

the order

and discipline of the dead.

Then they ran

to wash their hands

and listen

to the news

in the form of lullabies.

Coldness

is rather unpleasant.   

If you tremble

your credibility

turns to nothing.

That’s why I’ve learned

to plant nails

in my hands.

I am now

a steady person.

I wear

the new smile

only when I go out.

I wouldn’t want

to spoil it.

And I shine brighter

if it’s not a habit.

I climb on all the thrones

and point the way

to the weakest.

I also have ten children

and a little dog

to walk with.

Still I dance for you at home

while you dine

and I show you the sales

while you sleep

and I shine

in your head,

I shine

and do not breathe.

The lights.

You have to turn out the lights.

Otherwise

the veins show up too much,

they throb from the heat

they no longer flower.

But don’t you see the exact point

where the wire germinates?

It’s only a bare wire…

You blame the outlet

that’s always on your wrist

but it’s not beating

it’s blue

deep down

it’s always blue

but it’s not beating.

While I was slamming

between the cars

“I don’t remember

I don’t remember”

whispered the little fairy

with no teeth

and she lingered

at the crash

dying before me 

while I was leaving nothing

and taking it all back

at every chance.

I feel nauseous

seeing the room

after opening

my eyes

the second time.

There’s an elephant

at the center

for no reason

and it’s crushing the bed.

I need to open

my eyes

a third time.

How empty is life

without a presence.

And now that the bed is

at the center

and the elephant’s at the window

I really have

no reason

and fall flat to the floor

while I am

at the center

and the bed is at the window

and the elephant

in four starts

opens its eyes

and departs.

I could be a wild boar

if I wanted

and shoot myself between the eyes 

if I wanted

and no one

would think anything of it.

Someone

would worry

about removing the lead

from the carcass.

Should it end up

between teeth,

should it injure

cheeks

at midday.

When they forced me

to eat,

the evening prophecy

“That you grow strong and healthy”

they said,

while my teeth were chipping.

There was no pain

no path

was left alone

for long

and there was nothing to say

so there was nothing

to eat.

That was

the dream I had

while the prophecy

lay in little pieces

getting cold

on the plate

in front of me.

We are interesting

people.

Our arms

and also our teeth,

every mark of resistance

holds something of interest.

And in the ground,

when we are inhabited

by tiny monsters

when nothing but smoke

sits in our sockets,

even then we are

incredibly interesting.

And we want

the grass

above our heads

to know it,

and death

to understand it,

along with the bird

that lives underneath us

with its irremediably

large beak.

Everything about you

is friendly and perfect.

If I were someone

I would purchase

your eyes,

if I had a house

I would use you as an antenna

to stalk my neighbors.

I would become

respectable and good

If I only had your back,

straight as a man’s,

buying new clothes

and always in the limelight

noticeably made up.