In Virginia, we only ever drive
to strip malls: the cleaners, martial arts
places, bagel franchises. Mother chews ginseng
every morning, watches the sun
rise, every morning slips sour vitamins
into my orange juice. Before this, there
was an acre of pear trees, a million magpies,
a dirty old river I would never step in. Summer
in my Virginia is harmless. School’s just letting
out & we ride our bikes to friend’s
houses, play video games in the dark.
Show me 1987, mother dressed
in a cool blue jacket, long silver earrings
dangling over her shoulders. No armband
feels right on me, no anthem & yellow
is a color I never understood--wallpaper,
a daisy’s heart. Close your eyes: mother
walks to school, rice packed in her bag,
she even throws pebbles at birds sometimes.
to strip malls: the cleaners, martial arts
places, bagel franchises. Mother chews ginseng
every morning, watches the sun
rise, every morning slips sour vitamins
into my orange juice. Before this, there
was an acre of pear trees, a million magpies,
a dirty old river I would never step in. Summer
in my Virginia is harmless. School’s just letting
out & we ride our bikes to friend’s
houses, play video games in the dark.
Show me 1987, mother dressed
in a cool blue jacket, long silver earrings
dangling over her shoulders. No armband
feels right on me, no anthem & yellow
is a color I never understood--wallpaper,
a daisy’s heart. Close your eyes: mother
walks to school, rice packed in her bag,
she even throws pebbles at birds sometimes.
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