innocent,
the bird’s song pierces a window
a dark brain muddled in what happened
starts again

a sleeping child’s face
loses the wrinkles from
her mother’s bad mental health
plump lips drool like
nothing happened
start again

a 2-lane country highway,
2 incoming drivers rip their eyebrows off and
see a fawn crossing
dinner plate eyes connect as 4 fists
flash the vehicles wild
only the bird’s song happens
start again

vice grip tendons inside heart chambers
soften as kindness embraces a rib cage
a putrid heartbeat becomes a butterfly
start again

the monsters all come and do what monsters do
the birds all sing and
nothing happened I swear
start again

drugs mutate the placement of hope
whole lives are squeezed into garbage trucks
mothers wail on their knees in rivers
the fluffy little birds sing on the tiny little twigs
calling in strait god
start again

the soft hand of forgiveness
the smell of baby powder
the trust of again
the chewing garbage truck tucked into a pacifier
tucked into food stamps and the boingy springs behind the heart’s anatomy
start again

innocence leaps from the curved tall grass in summer’s sun
and smooths the furrowed foreheads every time
count on it like clockwork

innocence flashes off the sun dappled river
and boings in the heart of every son and daughter
the light transfers into the retinae,
into the tired monstered brains

into the lime tonic mottled heart chambers
make us all pure
keep your baby eyes open

birds sing in the space
above flushed toilets
nothing happened
start again

Moon Bukas (pronounced BOO-KAHS) is a 43 year old transman who lives against the odds in Bend, OR. They’re the type of person to will their dog into reincarnation but can’t seem to leave Bend. If you know a way out to where the grass is greener on the other side, please contact them @crybabymoon. Meanwhile here is a poem about how it is that innocence is restored.