Carpet Bomb

I can’t get rid of useful things and nobody wants to pick them up, I keep forgetting where I lay my umbrella. I don’t leave footprints in the snow anymore, we haven’t had a war on domestic soil in so long I wonder if I still got it. Because once I had it. I heard about a boy who once tied a string to his brother, he tied his brother to the ocean and the ocean to the blackbird— from the ground all the birds look like blackbirds from the ground a Stealth Bomber looks like a spaceship. The aliens are coming, they walk through birthday parties and basically go unnoticed. And this is kind of how I go through life, once I heated up a spoon in the microwave the fish have so much mercury in them they spark. I was handed a bayonet from the Civil War and a copper penny corroded with rust. When they take the Statue of Liberty apart to clean her her neck explodes with a million little spiders. Meanwhile in a forest somewhere someone cut open my grandmother’s belly and filled it with bricks something is coming soon I keep a bucket of lambs blood by the front door.