A bear in stone.

She told me, "People who cuss can't think of nothing smarter to say."
Then she gave me a cookie. I had lost my lunch. It tasted old.
She lived in that closet. She slept in it, she didn't bathe in it

She dragged around the carelessness and lack of consideration
Of the entire community behind her, tipped towards her
On two wheels that squeeked and fought to be free.

She was gone, but I had forgotten to thank her first.
So I went back out there, and I cussed
Because I couldn't think of nothing smarter to say.


Her nose was hooked, and her hair was straight.
Her skin was wrinkly, like a shirt when you need it
to not be wrinkly.

She kept relocating me, putting me in a different place,
I was told to face corners, as if the wall was less interesting
She was not more interesting than the wall

It was always my fault, I guess my lips could speak without movement
I guess my shoulder launched itself into the fingers of another, tap tap
I guess my ear threw a lasso into the throats of the others, and pulled out whispers


Then I was scared. I was scared because there wasn't
Anyone else out there but I was still out there in the grass
Waiting to be saved, to be taken back home

So I tugged on his belt, because I was short and could not reach
A face rose out of a shoulder like the sun, irritated
He said my time would come, not to be impatient

So I waited, and I was scared now to ask again
Because the sun hadn't been very warming that day
There was a bear in stone, but it didn't keep my company.