The Elephant Bell

we had this elephant bell
she never used
she left it at my house
it was her dad’s
she never used it
I love her dad
I think he is a good dad
but I think one day
he must have rung
the elephant bell
and that’s when
everything fell down
that’s when she found
the dead birds in the freezer
that’s when she found
the dog food in her shoe
that’s when she left
the note about the tower
that’s when I saw
the drawing of the mountain
that’s when she started
wearing winter clothes
that’s when the elephants came
standing in a group
I think they wanted something
or thought he wanted something
and he did
but I didn’t think
we could get it there in time
I knew I could help
maybe in a different life
but I didn’t want to ring
the elephant bell
and I didn’t really
want it in my house

I need to sleep with the windows open

My neighbor goes out braless to help a goose
The world spins
The goose is slow to fly
Where are your peers I ask
But my neighbor stares at me
In a crying house
there must be room for singing
There must be a little room for music
and there must be a window that
undoes our cruelty
My room is scattered with old confetti
leftover from the party flowers
Every so often I find a shred of pink
And think I’m all right, still Doing Art
and in the spring I’ll climb the tree
Until then I have a lot of guilt
We go out to look for my lost cat
Who’s been gone five years now
And I wasn’t kind enough
Someone came by and struck down a house
Took the roof off the church
Stole the weathervane
And sent a postcard to their rotten lover
Someone’s knocked over a gravestone
And carved their name into my desk
And eaten some of my sandwich
And someone’s left a dead pheasant
Right here, on my doorstep

Halie Theoharides is the author of Final Rose (Mount Analogue) and Into the Leaf Gloom (Factory Hollow Press). She lives in Gill, Massachusetts. Say hi on instagram @halie.theoharides