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count the times the police appeared in my living room,
barged in and bobbed like jellyfish on the tangible
resentment of my mother the sea of her crashing
on herself my mother of get in their faces and tell them where to go
assault on an officer broke her delicate wrist said it caused arrest
in her youngest who spoke from then on in television jingles
you could understand perfectly at&t telecommunications
screaming covering his ears blocking out mere prayers (prayers of ma mere?)
once he whispered we’ll be right back
after these messages & locked himself in the bathroom for three days
so I was surprised at the protest today when the guards mingled, said hello,
and when I wrote she believes she was assaulted which I later deleted
I mistyped the word believes as believers she believers she believers she
believe-wavers she was assaulted believe-wavers she was hurt
more than the ones she hurt—court dates plaintiffs experts victims
among which I don’t count myself, not really, I’m fine, I’m nobody—
she is the Mother she is the rights
of family, resists the detectives who invade our beach house,
charge into our lake cabin, tear through our ranch in the woods, wade
our shallow creek, barely enough to sustain the stranded fish
and when I wrote whispered it came out wishpered, part wish part vesper,
and the policemen and policewomen keep coming, cruising our coves and inlets,
circling the warming sound I don’t want to grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid
the tiny shrimp of the gulf pandalus borealis have begun to disappear
dear translucent embryos of the quiet dark, tiny pink stars,
blinking off like nightlights, and the breath I draw in from the cold night air—