this is my lineage

i pick a diseased tooth out of the sky
and bury it.
the horizon line has no idea
how to stomach the violence of heritage.

this is my lineage: heart let down by paper ribs.

my father is writing me again.
i learn the time in Madrid on a whim.
i take a dive from the crow’s nest
and watch the judges all lift 10s.

this is my lineage: only successful on the descent.

i ask: who is in charge of my loneliness?
am i the architect of my own emptiness?

i think of standing in a lake until the world ends.
i picture spitting out curses without principle
and wishing my last breath goes out and ruins you.

i go back to sleep and don’t do any of it.

the inaction is my lineage.

About the author

Asa B. Brooks is a disabled nonbinary poet who lives somewhere in a forest in the remote New England wilderness. Their work has been published in Wild Hyacinth Magazine, The /tƐmz/ Review, and others.

Photo by Christine.H Pan on Unsplash.