Academic journal article The Southern Review

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Academic journal article The Southern Review

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Article excerpt

[phrase omitted]

Yesterday I went to the forensic office. They'd asked for a fingerprint
   to match
the DNA. They told me they had found some unidentified bones, and here
I am again, circling like an orange on the knife of hope. Now I am at your
home, Brother. I dust the plastic flowers that surround your picture and
water them with tears.

The forensic report says that the sack of bones I signed to receive today is
you, but there's so little. I display them on the table in front of them. We
redo the math. A skull with six holes, one collarbone, three extra ribs, a
demolished thighbone, a pile of wristbones, a bit of spine. Is it possible
   that
so little could be a brother?

The forensic report says so. I put the bones in the sack. I wipe my hands of
their dust. I blow the dust off the table, and I carry you on my back and
   walk. … 
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