The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean

The coal’s mother recalls when he was little
he once kept the straw from drowning,
also his brother’s love
of chocolate pancakes, that he’d hoped
to teach electronics someday:
too much information
for a fairy tale. Five grainy seconds
said it all, a hothead talking back.
Or he asked a question,
no choice but to loiter in the ER
like sheeted furniture, how it goes
if you lack an escape plan
from your body. Their friend the bean smiled
open in surgery, woke looking
at three to five for assault.
Tomorrow seldom falls into place
like a bridge. Besides, why were they
in that neighborhood
to begin with, and who even cares,
since they belong in a dustpan?

About the Author

David Moolten's last book, Primitive Mood, won the T. S. Eliot Prize (Truman State University Press, 2009). Hischapbook, The Moirologist, won the 2023 Poetry International Winter Chapbook Competition. He lives in Philadelphia.