Fire in the Garage
by Claire Ortalda

I thought God screamed
I thought fire lived in the garage
and licked at the house with flame
I thought I was already burned

The ripping of paper
was a jagged sound of horror to me
as if my mother's skin was tearing
bearing me
You see, it was all my fault

Picture a murder victim
lying face down in the sand
with a black-red Amazon map of blood
trickling out to the side
of his shattered skull
That was the course of my blood
dying monthly in the dust

Now, too late, there's a writhing in my mind
The tongue of my history licks me
The bed is hot and wrinkled
Heat laps in the window
Do not drop a cup, she said
Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy
The air is waiting to break

But life has shuttered the event too long
The lie is like a broken tooth we feel with our tongue
Our mouth remembers it too well
And the scar doesn't tell on the flame

Claire Ortalda

copyright © 2004 by Claire Ortalda