Snakes

By Eileen Myles

for Kathe Izzo

I was 6 and

I lost my snake.

The table shook

I can do better

than this

and shambled

to the kitchen

to the scene

of the crime

I was green

I put my sneaker

down, little shoe

I felt the cold

metal tap

my calf

moo and everything

began to change.

I am 6

turned into lightning

wrote on the night

At 6, I was feathers

scales, I fell into

the slime of it, lit

You think you are six,

it yelled. I am face

to face with a frog

a woman alone

in bed. The square

of the window

persists. I am 6.

The phone rings

It’s my sister

blamm I dropped

a plate. Sorry.

Now the clouds slide

by afraid, awake

my feet are cold

but I’m fearless

I am 6.

Under here

with bottle caps

and stars

adults and low

moans, busses

slamming on brakes

I am 6

the cake is lit

it’s round

the children

sing. I will never

return. We are

so small.

My husband turns

his fevered

face. I put

the medicine

down. Click.

I am 6.

The movie rolls on.

Tramping feet,

music blaring

at the end of

the war. I

am frightened

hold my hand

The round face

of the woman

upstairs, moving

the faucets, strips

of vegetable

slithering down,

her reptile child

will never

return. The telephone

rings. It’s me.

I’m six.

Copyright Credit: Eileen Myles, “Snakes” from Skies, published by Black Sparrow Books. Copyright © 2001 by Eileen Myles. Reprinted by permission of Eileen Myles.

Source: Skies (Black Sparrow Books, 2001)