Selling Your Minivan.

Shea, Michael Martin

I am learning to be still. I am learning to be a name you want to name your children, & I won't call you Jezebel anymore but I will wreck you from the sky if you make me ride in your minivan again. I am learning you are cleft from ragged lawns, not to count your fallen hairs, how to squish the spiders in the hall, but I hate your minivan & can I call you Jezebel once more? I found your red jacket in a dirt field where you are cleft from nearby lawns & where your minivan sits rusting on its tires & I will send those tires to the moon, I will eat your muffler, I will rip the very wires from the dashboard & then I will wash my hands & arms before I touch you. I will be very quiet. I will be very still. I will send your minivan straight to hell but first, let me rinse my hands in the dew on your windshield, let me squish all the spiders, let me count all the hairs on your headrest & then I'll set your minivan on fire & we can name our children in the backseat & when your minivan is burnt to a crisp, I will wear my face like a new baseball in a dirt field, I will poison the water supply, I will put your red jacket on a hanger & display it proudly in my bedroom, I will mow the ragged lawn & we can make a sculpture from the blackened shell of your minivan, it can be a playground for our children & we will never call our daughter Jezebel, we won't let her drink the water that I poisoned, & when she is old enough we will give her your red jacket & I will be very still & imagine my face is always a new baseball in a ragged lawn before I mow it down.