…….—burst-through bricks were just made that way, ok;
there’s no bossy phone calling, no matching mustard
suits everyone has but you. Some people make lace.
Some people depend on hatred. Blades need making

—see who wins? Your package arrived damaged: a hand fan
with a goldfish eyeing out and some of that hardcornered emptiness
…….between motifs on Norwegian wallpaper. I tried sending gems

…….a gold dress for when you decide to eat again, a pretty brunette
paintbrush. But how perfectly awful being a button
on a city mouse’s waistcoat, I thought, how loud
is a new leopard in my heart’s bark rowboat, how

I didn’t realize it was me you hated,
as a photo of a galaxy is unimaginable.

Previously published in Sixth Finch.

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Molly Brodak is the author of the book A Little Middle of the Night (University of Iowa Press, 2010) and the chapbook The Flood (Coconut, 2012). She is the 2011–2013 Poetry Fellow at Emory University.

Object(s) to bring back to life: “The Sifrhippus, the cat-sized horse which went extinct 56 million years ago.”