I lift up my eyesin the Big Y aislewhere is my helpwhere is my helpin the check outwith our couponsmy father rantsabout Republicansmy mother´s teeththe color of wormsher greasy hairin a topknotit´s a small rentalher second-handwheelchair smellslike a compost heapwe eat mealsdelivered in blackplastic the sea saysdon´t think twiceor does it say youcannot do this twicethe cranberry lightdices Connecticuttints the blue bermsa buoy bell chimesSt. Ann´s steeplesplices a sky the colorof a crawl spacemy mother urinatesinto a commodeon Mile Creek Roadthe liquid drums downon the plastic bucketlike a rain squallthe bureaucrat saysthey´re on the listto be dissectedfor free and couldwe press threefor Social Securityif we wanted a boxin wood or plasticthe prices variedsaltbox houses lockedtight Yankee thriftwhere the librariansmells like mothballson Lyme Streetand say Oh that´s nicethe estuary shiftswith awls and tit miceswitch grass sea myrtlemarsh elder glasswortsweet pepper bushaustere Connecticutmy mysterious stateremote and elegantnext door lesbiansmy mother saidwere not lesbianswere swept into urnsAudrey and BeeAudrey and Bee