The Shape of Arizona
     Aaron Banks

I spent the night trying to remember the shape
of James Harden’s chin, and I drew Arizona instead.
My throat sealed and I thought of drowning
in peanut butter again, and this time, I would be
more awake for all of it. This time, I would use
my fingers to cover my teeth and imagine
what it’s like to have an asthma attack
while singing happy birthday to my grandma.
She thinks I do no wrong. She thinks I would dance
for her because she turned eighty-six. I haven’t danced
for anyone since my wedding. I love my wife
more than my grandma, and this is the first time
for such a thought. If my mother heard this,
she would feel more like my mother than ever.
She would say why do you hate my mommy.
She would say she is the reason you can say such a thing.
I bet my mother is crying on behalf of her mother.
I bet my grandma would only want some sugar and a squeeze.