I am the glue between here and here
by Diane Seuss
- because I walk the state line like a railroad track.
- Train is a question I carry in my womb. Every girl
- needs a pink purse for holding questions,
- and the answers vibrate up through the soles
- of her church shoes. My shoes are not on the wrong
- feet. I am not cross-eyed or rabbit-eyed. Only one
- albino in town and he ain’t me, but I’m mixed up.
- Hair stylist is an egg beater. When I was coming up
- my food was library paste and cracker sandwiches.
- Well read. Well fed. Now that I’ve bled I can stroll
- the incision between there and there. I represent,
- like a town queen, but bigger. Like a grain elevator,
- but without the combustible dust. If you ride a slow
- pony along some edge, you’ll know. One foot
- in the land of milkweed, the other in the land of rust.
