beating the day down and out

i. 
chilled sake shakes my jawbone - 
gung-ho 'chungha' 
my breath full of college days come back. 
neither sober nor drunk yet 
I liquefy myself after the day's beating, 
my teeth gently clamped on a tongue 
that will not cease 
talking, shaking, swelling with too much unsaid. 
there are many days' worth of words layered in scales on my bones 
and the carvings shine as much as they stink - 
miniature dead fish slicing into me as they rot. 


ii. 
guilt, gain, loss and trial 
each day unlayers and the double scales 
meander between the mandolin breezes 
until a note clarifies and they sway towards guilt 
- I almost slapped my child - 
his neglected face feared towards my raised arm, 
his crying brother clutched me with bloody hands, 
the triangle of kitten facing the cupboard door 
hooked me with eyes waiting for the slam of darkness, then I release them and the paths split through 
splinters and cymbal crash 
- my daughter sends me away, 
one cookie clutching son hip balanced 
while the six year old kicks and kicks 
at the door that keeps bruises locked away