The basement abandoned years ago.
Mud and darkness wearing masks of mud and darkness.
Someone’s body an elongated mushroom
inching along the wall.
Drowned people bumping into each other like balloons.
Balloons bumping into each other like catacombs.
The house’s roots becoming a kraken, wild with death,
becoming the giant muscle holding everything in place.
my mother alone inside the glass egg
an eyeball floating in saltwater
from the passenger seat she bobs toward
the cotton fields and artichokes
I am the air rushing out the window
the car the glass egg my mother’s eye
lodged inside a very narrow tube
on my tray of many many many
narrow tubes