"MORNING GLORY"

Found some light in being ordinary a few months ago, though it's laughable to actually believe any of us are.

I woke by the river and it gave me a walloping,
bidden in broad ears by the rise of Saturday

It was rising in a crowded blue mist,
young gracious stomach bleating gently
for ordinary people

I drank a handle of it, glad,
the lagoon fog gurgling golden in a cutting stroke,
looping braids around my wrists,
new pajama sleeves tethering my waking
to a slugging in the face by a low-yelping victory

Remember after me as I curl the marled borough home
on fat, soft feet, on bent, new legs,
to start the day pretending to be
like everyone else — people born awhile ago —

stumbling home from memory,
nursing a red print left blotching
crawling across my jawbone
in the shape of a morning glory

Lilacs that re-bloomed on the autumnal equinox.

J.W.