abattoir errata

< the daughters / on sally jessy / were occupation

 

babies / half korean / half german // nobody

 

said rape in the ’80s // the daughters / broke through

 

dead mothers / & were drop-dead

 

gorgeous / lashes
 

/ heavy like palm fronds /

 

feathered bangs / over doe

 

eyes // man-eaters // they could

 

kill / anything //

 

they killed /

 

my mother // every time

 

the audience would clap us
 

into commercial breaks
 

& the fathers whispered / so beautiful
 

into jeweled / ears /
 

mama’s body would bolt
 

to curl on the bathroom floor //
 

we wrapped our gritty
 

arms / around her
 

stove-sweated back / our breaths
 

tart with breakfast / on her neck
 

she would let us / hold her
 

then / pull quickly / away //
 

my first taste
 

of longing / vicarious /
 

ache of maple / in the mouth //
 
 

sometimes you need
 

to be loved
 

/ by what you’re not
 

obligated /

 

to feed //

 
 

when she bought the first car that could

 

get us farther than pines road /

 

we drove to deberry / texas // though we’d never

 

been / she knew the way // pulled up

 

blew the horn / like her friend / janie /

 

backing out of our driveway //

 

as a kid i thought horns meant /

 

i have not forgotten

 

the way / you made me

 

feel / i will come back

 

for it / soon //

 

inside /

 

someone said / he out back / should be in

 

/ in just a few / we waited

 

in my mother’s father’s

 

house / it seemed / like hours / staring

 

at wood / paneled walls / that ran

 

from the kitchen to closed-off

 

parts / each / room / silently / spoken

 

for / with scuttling feet / my first look

 

at scansion

 
 

/ finally /

 

my mama got up / my sister

 

followed / her eyes blinking

 

with oil sheen / dripping from her

 

bangs / my lenses blackening

 

with sunlight // mama’s church shoes

 

sinking into the stubbly / loam

 

what a ragtag bunch we must

 

have been / since love wasn’t

 

/ the one / looking // we found him

 

crouching behind the / toolshed

 

he grinned / stretching / his grizzled

 

upper lip / an inside joke / only he

 

& my mama knew // she smiled // they talked

 

a little while / old / friends //

 

when we crossed

 

the state line / she

 

didn’t blow / just said /

 

I won’t be bothering him

 

again //

 
 

sally jessy / still blared

 

fathers still misfired

 

embraces / flowers / apologies /

 

whispering beautiful /

 

one last time

 

into frosted hair //

 

/ the daughters

 

still cried //

 

my / mama

 

too // sometimes

 

the men //

 

i don’t know

 

why /

 

they ever / thought /

 

the knives

 

they carried / the game

 

they felled / the stories

 

/ all cock / and bull /

 

could ever cleanly hollow

 

/ bleeding / things / >


Destiny O. Birdsong is the author of the poetry collection, Negotiations (Tin House Books, 2020), which was longlisted for the 2021 PEN/Voelcker Award, and the triptych novel Nobody’s Magic (Grand Central, 2022), which was longlisted for the Center for Fiction’s First Novel Prize. She was the Hurston-Wright Foundation’s inaugural Writer-in-Residence at Rutgers University-Newark and now serves as a 2022–23 Artist-in-Residence at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.