grade school

AWP Intro Journal Awards Honorable Mention

arrives as a single hard pulse in my wrist

when joey says it— half-breed. i compare

my skin tone for the rest of my life, and

attempt a legibility for all the blue irises

of my new home. my first mom

is gone but the state gave me a new

one, this one

drinks too much and sometimes

forgets my name but doesn’t shoot

heroin and doesn’t give me up so

i only have to shake like that at birth

and not again. in history class

andrew raises his hand. he has blond hair

in his armpit and i scrutinize the delicate patchwork

for all the hostilities. when i get home i can see

the herd of cattle in the field across the road;

they have been graded too. the thick layer

of manure they walk upon is soft with mist

and i have already gone out and gathered

all the stones into feeble, tilting towers.