Poems:By Colby Davis

Hip Bones

Girls on beach blankets
pelvic ridges raised,
calcium knobs
covered by thin skin.
Slice through
the space between
growing and grown.
Like a wishbone pulled wide,
hips keep time
centimeters spread.
Vacant space collects,
tissue clings
cotton candy
spun around stick,
pillow soft and pink.
Cradle of bone expecting.

Science

We picked artifacts of bone
from the owl pellet’s dry web

from the owl pellet’s dry web
of mouse fur and flaking waste

of mouse fur and flaking waste
broke open with metal tools

we picked artifacts of bone.

Mouse bones piled on brown paper
start with the skull and sift through

start with the skull and sift through
we made new mice from old bone

we made new mice from old bone
pieced together with white glue
mouse bones piled on brown paper.

How to Be the Youngest Child

Stay an extra month inside your mother, cause her lots of lower back pain.
Thumb through your sister’s baby book and wonder why yours is empty.
Remember that you were too much for your mother to accomplish anything.
Grow quiet; competing with the noise will only strain your throat.
Make up an imaginary friend.
Beg for a kitten and get your way while your sister is at band camp.
Earn As so that you have something to say at the dinner table.
Fall into fetal position instead of learning to fight.
Be bossed around by your big sister.
Try acting so that your family will fall in love with you pretending to be someone else.

Contagion

I want to crawl
under your sternum,
slip between blood and bone.
Pry open a small space
to rest, a new kind of fish
breathing blood.
Pinned by the weight
of your ribs, packed against
heartbeat and breath.
Climb your cage and
sleep on the slender
crest of your clavicle.