Childcraft

I once had a child's book
Of make-at-home projects.
My favorite picture was of
An organizer; a long wooden rack
With compartments.
I liked how each square space
Held irregular objects—
A ball, a jack-in-the-box,
A toy dinosaur.
It was comforting;
All those chaotic curves
And frightening polygons,
Contained, safe.
I wanted a container just like it
For my things that didn't fit,
That seeped out from the corners;
The clown picture that moved,
The eyes that watched me
From the writing desk,
The woman on the cardboard kiosk
With the terrifying, vulnerable long neck,
The picture of my father on the staircase
Shouting at my crying mother,
Sobbing from behind the bathroom door,
Cosmetics breaking on the tile floor.

David Aronson