Prodigal Daughter

Every day is yesterday 

& like the loneliness 

of water, I have always 

existed. My body brackets

a quiver in a world that doesn’t 

love us. Despite the tyrants, 

the “I” is forever 

insatiable. Alone in Spain once, 

I ran out of money & 

for days ate nothing

but eggs. The bad life, 

my mother would say. & yet

I was resplendent, found a music

that confronted the self 

with the self. I have always

found ways to violate 

my own body—cocaine until

the heart thickened. Wasteful, 

prodigal, a slut to my whims, 

& my grandmother

so poor she couldn’t feed

her chickens. Today & yesterday 

& tomorrow & the day after, 

the hours viscous, the hours 

vicious. This is what it’s come to. 

A Mexican cackles next door—

& what’s more stunning? The lesson

is beauty replicates itself. 

& you, my speck, a replication

of the beloved. 100 brain cells

per minute. Forgive me, 

I don’t know the science of it, only

the smell of meat that sends me

gagging to the toilet. How can I

do this? How can I ask you 

to be kind in a world that isn’t?