QUESTIONNAIRE – Margaret Young
The four year olds bang into me like cats,
insouciant. Elliot assuring Anthony
he’s brought his rubber band from home.
How would you describe yourself? Too old
to bother. Three sentences or less. In my room
you’ll find a lot of dust. Pictures of dead people.
Before they died. That special someone. Might
as well be dead. Arrives in a matching gift pouch.
A burning thing. Most drastically changed. Available
in admiral gray or navy. A truth acknowledged.
Double you double you double you. Dare.
Function of lyric. Raw edges add authenticity.
Cuddly pairs with sleek. Once we danced
in a skyscraper office. Fell for you like,
hell, was a child. Which celebrity resembled
most? Animal, roadside attraction. Is there
anyone at work? I work in goddamned preschool.
They have such rich names: Raven, Dustin,
Isaiah, Tenisha, Kai. Alexis puts on a lace scarf,
asks Khairee, will you marry me? No, he says,