The Open Family

							(New Orleans Review 29:2 2003)

The Open Family     

There’s a way to open a house like a doll’s house the roof has hinges it swings out with a squeaking sound there’s a way to open a family to find everyone in their bedrooms sleeping waking up its three a.m. someone is missing someone is out of town someone is 

a father a daddy who travels for money wearing a dark coat in a strange town in January it’s cold the family in the house puts more wood in the stove the fire leaps up
the fire leaps up the hollow walls the family can’t see they are inside but we are looking 

down there’s a fire in the wall pulling itself toward the bedroom closet there’s a way to open the house the walls are hollow like bones the mother is awake she is smelling smoke down through the roof we see the fire’s  tongue licking the living room its fingers 

reaching for the girl through her open bedroom door see its smoke arms curl into her throat the mother calls out to the family everyone stirs the house is burning there’s a way to open it swing the roof back the family is moving the girl is in slow motion she does not 

believe anything is happening the brother is alive he leaps he carries he throws piles of clothes out the window the mother dials the telephone the black phone in the black room the smoke is a grey blanket now we can’t find the family they are lost in covers the phone 

rings and rings let’s look through the windows the girl is moving so slow so slow her hands touch things put them down she is barbie this is her house this is her mascara this is her first tube of lipstick she is pink around the edges she is asleep and walking through 

fire her brother is awake his arms full of things her mother is speaking crying yelling into the phone the black phone through the black windows now let’s find the family outside it is cold they are afraid they watch the house the hollow house the bony walls snap apart 

the ribs fall through the heart the fire leaps up the roof slides apart the girl watches the girl’s in a photograph a game the girl’s inside a lined box watching there’s a way to open the girl her chest swings out on silver hinges she is pink inside blooming filled with grey