See the children
dancing on the walk
just ten minutes from
cloud-top, by my clock,
explode like firecrackers
embers fall lightly on the dock
joyous souls carried by the river
down from my eye where the valleys talk.

My Five Earliest Memories

  • I woke up one night, stood up in my crib, and looked across the room at my reflection the mirror. I started crying, and my grandmother came in to check on me.
  • When I was four, I crawled up on my mother’s bed to get the sharpies on her top shelf. I went out and scribbled on everyone’s door in the apartment complex. When my mom and the owner confronted me I told them I wrote the residences’ name on their door.
  • In kindergarten while the teacher wasn’t looking, I ducked under the table, tied the students’ shoelaces together, and shuffled their lunchboxes around.
  • When I was 6 my step-dad rushed me outside one afternoon before I could get my shoes on, which was terrible because our yard was filled with stickers. He made me walk to the backyard to look at the wood he wanted me to stack. After I pulled all the stickers out of my feet I them I was going to kill myself, and they never rushed me after that.
  • I remember the first time I was petrified with fear: my mother was standing two feet from me, slamming an umbrella into the dinner table, while screaming at my step-dad.