The Franks
By CAConrad
19 November 2001
Frank hated the 9 miscarriages
kept in jars of formaldehyde
Mother burped each one
spooned peas against the glass
melon heads snapped open and close
she rocked them all at once in her arms
no room for Frank
"you are too big for a jar my child
you will betray me the rest of your life"
Frank hammers
carrots
all day
it works
the earth
can't
leave us
Frank's sister grew long blue feathers
she said it was worse than cutting teeth
she spent a month screaming in the cave
pushing them out
Frank would lie in bed at night
touching his own back
crying
praying it wouldn't
come to him
but the day his sister flew to the house
he stood by the window in awe
giant blue spread coming in across the lake
he heard the hunter's shot before she did
Frank remembers
the shirts of buried generals
flying in formation
over schoolyards
blowing wasps from sleeves
Frank grew crows for hands
it was a difficult childhood
at dinner during prayer
his crows flapped
excited in the name of the Lord
"FRANK! KEEP STILL!" Mother hollered
"did you wash your crows!?
did you wash your FILTHY STINKING CROWS!?"
when Father died
Frank was found
straddling him
his crows picking the seven
gold fillings
Copyright © 2001 CAConrad
CAConrad is a poetry stevedore living in Philadelphia. His forthcoming books included COMPLETELY FRANK (The Jargon Society), and advancedELVIScourse (Buck Downs Books). He is the editor of BANJO: poets talking and he co-edits FREQUENCY MAGAZINE with Magdalena Zurawski.