Friday
Aug022013

Flaw in the Nursery

Diana Khoi Nguyen


 

IN THE FARTHEST MEADOW OF CHILDHOOD, a boy rocks
upon a wooden horse.


             The candle too dim for prayer is bright enough
for madness.


Love webs the body like a nerve.


            He grows febrile & strange, his eyelids like hawk wings
            forever over a sore—


 “You'll break your horse!” cries the nurse.


             —A secret within a secret like
illness from a flaw in the womb.


He trembles now with a grinding sense of shortage & on & on            
            it goes,


             a mania—the vulture's crimson neck bent down with
waiting—


             I hate this house for whispering.