by Ben Bienstock

Illustration by Pia Mileaf-Patel

published October 19, 2018

I remember when I was Boy

and mother was Mother

Bells chimed at noontime on streets made asphalt sang songs

it goes on and on


your hearts are lined with parallel filament

mine are jelly and melt


I could fall and spring back up but sometimes I’d hide there

I felt the heat of the day on my forehead when I lay on the floor and I heard      the television and the static and I put my ear to the floor and I could             only hear the static until I just felt the electricity

I didn’t know Danger wasn’t Volcano and I heard thump thump in my sleep


your bones made of plaster and glue

mine styrofoam


Movie theater heatwave on Saturday night

wished to really hear on both sides

run between rooms to catch the difference

was in love with sound then


your toenails unholy

mine are easily deceived


Skeletons could be funny sometimes

Mother look hard at TV, you’ll see

keep where you are that's it you’ll get it soon keep waiting I promise

I told you it would come


your mouth runs circles

mine is void of shape


I vibrated to a tuning fork of my brother’s volition

I who wished to leap from my body and enter a neon sign bright and warm        in the middle and never worry about early

I who wanted nothing more than to be tape spooled and unwound and                wound again until gave out and another from the store


you who has fingers made of elastic

and mine that are only there some of the time