Rae Armantrout

In the small oblong that was our living/dining room, the carpet was maroon (the color of dried blood) and the walls were light yellow. Did my mother think this combination was cheerful? She did value cheer. It was somehow inconceivable to ask what she was thinking. The couch and two rockers were covered in a brown-and-white fabric depicting farm scenes. Gauzy drapes were pulled across the front windows, softening the bright sun on parked cars and a few ragged palms.

1“Engage in an activity,”
one said.Then one said,
“Believe in your feelings.”It would be easy to believe
our bodieswere being operated
remotely,like drones
receiving instructions,no doubt coded,
on the fly.2It was possible to feel
you had been saved
by paisleysthen by natural fabrics
in muted shades.Both promised new lives.Once I was saved
from monotonyand hateby a square of sunon the overhead compartmenttinged faint yellow
and lime.