ANNA REED
milkcrate
I come here for a filter it’s my day untethered so of course daycare will phone to say my kid is sick insta pink eyes lit up in the sandpit the wellington fault will creak a bit and i’ll be far away with each jolt stuck under a hipster roof in milk crate
the brew tastes like a strong wind tunnelling in my chest i’m not doing the best this week
I swirl a spoon in the ash when they took my baby away i wonder where they took her
is she with tāwhiri his whangai child I google how far can babies travel
wait until their immune system is developed and buy them a seat
did the wind carry her & it’s too nice to stay inside my heart is pounding i’m a drummer i’m a mama full of beans I lost my baby like a receipt on cuba street I like the smell of honey & vanilla & maybe it’s just the filter
I feel like gathering up all my dying thoughts in pink hues toddling on the kid’s playground & squashing them like mosquitos
i just want to grab my itchy cup & run run run run away