| Malediction 
                   blood sick blood bound
 to helix ::
 or was it just
 the climate
 we’re raised in  ::
 say it’s
 genetic ::  blood
 my grandfather’s
 hunger
 my hunger ::
 say it’s
 endemic ::  blood
 my grandfather’s
 hands
 my hands ::
 lunatic
 inheritance
 :: wrapped
 around ::
 olde english
 seagrams
 old crow ::
 we carry
 our dead
 on the backs
 of our red
 blood cells ::
 crows on
 the backs
 of our blood ::
 every spell
 cast its hooks
 in us :: sins
 of the father  ::
 sins of the
 son :: another
 child born
 in my family’s
 blood ::
   Valediction                   i ate deathby the fistful
 to forget him.
 boy :: glass
 pitcher full
 of foul water.
 how i drank
 & howled
 on the bus.
 how i ate
 his leather
 shoes. concrete
 bust of a winged
 & weeping
 child. photo
 graph of a statue.
 boy :: butcher
 knife pulled
 from a hymnal.
 boy :: my head
 through drywall
 again & again
 & my altar
 & altercation
 & all the king’s
 men he slept
 with. deception
 in clever robes.
 my drywall
 demented by
 sorrow. my mass
 & massacred
 thigh. he loves
 me, he loves me
 not. he ties
 my stomach
 into knots
 he makes me
 drink.
   Jam  the  accident that almost happens
 leaves  its imprint
 
 the  sink hole you pretend is a god’s footprint
 
 the  bruise of unknown origin
 
 the  civic behind
 
 my  neck aches
 
 in  one life
 
 my  spine is severed & i fall
 
 like  a roman
 
 building.  in another i fly
 
 clean  through my front window
 
 the  glass parting around me
 
 like  a people through a dead body
                     of  water. in the last, i drive 
 to  the library to write out
 
 the  tremor that runs still
 
 through  my skin.
 
 even  in these hours after,
 
 my  hands shake their gasoline
 
 sick  engines. inside the brake’s screech
 
 you  could hear a space ship
 
 splitting  in half
 
 the  cabin eats its astronauts
 
 while  the engines continue
 
 up  into the unknown -
 
 even  marcus aurelius admits time
 
 may  in fact be what happens
 
 behind  the wheel of a car.
 
 why  in the moment between
 
 impact  & absence, there’s a split
 
 & i travel  in every direction
     
 Sam Sax is a 2015 NEA Creative Writing Fellow  & Poetry Fellow at The Michener Center for Writers, where he serves as the  Editor-In-Chief of Bat City Review.  He’s the two-time Bay Area Grand Slam Champion and author of the chapbooks A Guide To Undressing Your Monsters (Button 2014), sad boy / detective (Black Lawrence 2015), and All The Rage (SRP 2016). His poems are forthcoming in Beloit  Poetry Journal, Boston Review, New England Review, Pleiades, Poetry Magazine,  and other journals.
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