Henry and Mr.Bones
I Was Holding You

I was holding you in my arms
when something felt strange
and the other side of the planet

became mine, too.
Nothing bad about the sweater
you were wearing that day,

but the wooden afternoon
you kept in a bowl
finally ate its way through.

A penny I was jealous of
went out and spent itself,
the hell with it, the hell with it, I said.

I was holding you in my arms
when the pyramids arrived from Mexico,
“Innocent!” they claimed.

I threw the sea over my shoulder
like a sack of words
and hauled it away.