Pale yellow walls trellis around the sink mirror she eases the door closed slumps to the
tiled floor. Breathe breathe breathe the children are out there playing and yelling.
Crying pricked by the tacks holding the carpet to the kitchen floor her shoulder against
the door. The asphalt cicada din presses around her too large mountains bursting
highway heaving up neighbors waving in the sun with smiles chiseled into their faces
their eyebrows sewn on with a broken machine. Their clothes are so flowered socks
blue topstitching on a man’s trousers but she can’t see their heads for the glare. She
blinks the sun jumps overhead here the mountains on top of her eyes the cactus burst
from the cracked ground. Water water water. The cars snake tracks in the dirt the vinyl
interior inflates grows presses into her face. The felt tacking on the roof sags wraps
around her tongue. Who will save her at the house. The man at work going deaf in a
blue hole jack hammer for a new bank casino shopping warehouse. Brings the machine
wail home in his mouth. No. The children cry heaving wailing sobs her face is
crumbling. Catches it in the trellis mirror the lines around her mouth red brick blind she
was a majorette once. The wall lists to the right lists lists until the ceiling flips. Say it.
The walls swallow. Say it. Citrus smell of shiver and sweat. She came over the
mountain singing sing sing sing she wraps her arms around herself tucks her dress
under. She looked out over the prairie dogs the crying prairie dogs the wind bending
the yucca fruit low.