the smoke put a hammer in my head.
the smoke
from the fire
from the town
next
door.
the fire that didn't kill anyone
this
time.
the smoke was full of hammers
and my head took one for
keep
sake.
my head is amphibious that way.
always sluicing on up to things
better left outdoors.
outdoors, air burns
and burns like a girl at the edge
of the dance floor.
ask
me.
ash
me.
as we walk to school, she coughs,
my daughter. the smoke put a hammer
in her lungs. the hammers claw and claw
at the nails and the doors come
un
done.
everywhere is
outdoors, and now
even the night is
bright as
sun.
Corinna Schulenburg (she/her) is a queer trans artist/activist committed to ensemble practice and transformative justice. She’s a mother, a playwright, a poet, and a Creative Partner of Flux Theatre Ensemble. Poems in: Arachne Press, Beaver Magazine, Capsule Stories, Lost Pilots, Long Con, LUPERCALIA Press, miniskirt magazine, Moist, Moonflake Press, Moss Puppy, Oroboro, Okay Donkey, SHIFT, The Shore, The Westchester Review, and more.