me, museum

my mother found a rabid dog

and wanted to hug it

wanted to give it all her glorious honeylove

wanted to bathe her children in a two-parent household

but

the dog didn't want kids

the dog would scream it in the hallway at four a.m

reminding us as often as possible

the sheer art of it

how the monster could panic into my body

sometimes i still hear it in the chambers of my heart

the way some glorious paintings stay with you

i am a museum

i must be a museum

when i was seven

the dog told me i was going to be a slut

no one came over to our house to play

the dog made me write

i will flush the bathroom toilet" seventy-five times