Only some of my family is here and already
I want to climb into the little fold in the bedspread
between the pillow and the mattress of the motel bed.

These people are my relations; we have
the same blood, or so they say; the word blood
is spoken over and over; they can't stop talking

about blood. And the motel pool
is closed and dark, but my brother
has some strange idea that if only

we were all as cool as he is, we could
get into the pool and swim in the blood
that's dripping from our skin.