Rebecca Loudon

           Why is it that men speak and animals don't?
                    --Walker Percy

No one ever tells you about burn -
catheter, greenstick fracture,
jalapeno oil on a torn nail.

I tried to warn you.
I waved both hands,
swung my arms like Ivan

in the basement of the B&I
before he moved to Atlanta
to sip Coke and hang

from a nearly authentic jungle.
I beat my chest, grunted,
sent you the photos.

You broke my window,
threw whiskey on the floor.
I signaled alarm.

You backed out the door,
keeping your eye on my hands
like they were zoo animals.

We never should have allowed
the dogs to watch. I tried
to stuff sorry back in.

I tried to sign nimble and forget.
I stepped on a piece of glass
and fell. Hush now.

Let's not speak of it again.
It was enough to have a few days naked
in that kind of heat.