Hothouse

me and momma kept a puppy named alameda
secret from poppa and joie and clarice and dee-dubya and anne-beth
asking why me and momma made a collar outta pull tabs off
coke cans and a sweatpant drawstring
while alameda slept beneath stars and the wheelbarrow
where she lapped hose water and ate the stale ends of breads we snuck her,
ends alameda couldn’t tell weren’t bones,
that she dug and buried and hid in the yard
that poppa tilled in aprils and asked where’d all these holes come from?
each spring like a joke til i was fourteen
and became a girl
and left this world for good.