Cat’s Cradle

I wove a cat’s cradle in a house of string
The beautiful rooms were simmering
while a chicken cooked in a shallow brook
I spat a red clot from a cut with her diamond ring

A friend arrived with a buttercup
Hold it under your chin with a pin, she said
She opened her mouth and the house fell in
Each simmering room disapperaed like a cat

If I rinse my mind with a bottle of bleach
if I scrub my chicken and boil lmy screech
if I walk on the river to the bridge with a view
if I sit on its edge and chant the clues, who cares?

The rain will fall like dew if I do
the chorus of cousins will boo if I do
the string will hang me whole if I do
and the red clot cut in two will flood if I do

Will I keep my buttercup mouth pinned shut
will I open it up like a jack-in-the-box
will I live or die in his murderous eye
if I tell the truth? Will you?

From the recently completed manuscript, The Odyssey of Yes and No. First published in Lily Poetry Review, guest edited by Jennifer Franklin.