Bastard

i squeeze my eyes
tight
make blue neon swarm
colors meld
like oil on water

i crouch
bow shoulders
jack-knife knees

got yer Mama’s nose
folks say
got her mouth
must be
they fit your knuckles

my coat of colors
fades:
black to purple
blue to green
yellow to brown

i wear battle ribbons
of scar

bastard
you spit
no kid of mine

and your words
bring solace

Ann Howells is a poet and editor of the journal, Illya’s Honey. Her work has appeared most recently in Avocet, Third Wednesday, Main Channel Voices, and Barbaric Yawp.