1931, DES MOINES

When Dad moved in with a man named Shadow and out

Of our house on Franklin street, for good, he left

Me, with the women. That day I stubbed my toe

On the door-sill of the sun-room and my whole foot

Swole. I was inconsolable, a little mother-

Fucker, in whose imagination I will my father

Back, to the family

Circle. Today, when I lose someone, by death,

Or torn friendship,

I am that same five-year-old again, lost, at an Iowa Fair,

So lost amid a crowd he cannot bring together,

He tells the nearest person I HAVE NO NAME.