Poem: Elegy for a Broken Part

I.I have inherited these feetfrom the trust fund of feara garage full of rusting knickknacksstored in a body shop of intent.Autoparts not in stock mean theselimbs are bootlegged, jimmy riggedhands done put his tongue back togetheragain until oil dribbled from the bottom.White ribs and bones slid out of the menthol boxa damned do-dad galloping homeward to pink lipswith wrists tuned up to the point of seeming fixed.Set or rather put me down in a machineI need something to get from point Ato point B, nothing fancy but reliablesafe—a shield from thelightening that is living.We don’t hide in the South we passfor what or from whom I don’t know.Under hairy arms I carried the greasy fried fishbleeding through the brown bag’s paper skin.Wrenching the shadows with his steelyeyes, noisy nostrils flared wingsDaddy said he seen cars walk on waterand that at one time the people could flyas if myth is someform of knowingwe will all justhave to make do.II.We will all justhave to make doas if myth is someform of knowing.Daddy said he seen cars walk on waterand that at one time the people could flywrenching the shadows with his steelyeyes, noisy nostrils flared wings.Under hairy arms I carried the greasy fried fishbleeding through the brown bag’s paper skin.We don’t hide in the South we passfor what or from whom I don’t know.Safe—a shield from thelightening that is living.I need something to get from point Ato point B, nothing fancy but reliablewith wrists tuned up to the point of seeming fixed.Set or rather put me down in a machinewhite ribs and bones slid out of the menthol boxa damned do-dad galloping homeward to pink lips.Hands done put his tongue back togetheragain until oil dribbled from the bottom.Autoparts not in stock mean theselimbs are bootlegged, jimmy riggeda garage full of rusting knickknacksstored in a body shop of intent.I have inherited these feetfrom the trust fund of fear.  This piece was originally published in Solstice: A Magazine Of Diverse VoicesAlison C. Rollins, born and raised in St. Louis city, currently works as the Librarian for Nerinx Hall. She is the second prizewinner of the 2016 James H. Nash Poetry contest and a finalist for the 2016 Jeffrey E. Smith Editors’ Prize. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in American Poetry Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Meridian, Missouri Review, The Offing, Poetry, The Poetry Review, River Styx, Solstice, TriQuarterly, Tupelo Quarterly, Vinyl, and elsewhere. A Cave Canem as well as Callaloo Fellow, she is also a 2016 recipient of the Poetry Foundation’s Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Fellowship.