Broken Sonnet For Osteoarthritis

we have known death to be an accident,

but you fondle my grandfather

like a monsoon swiping its knuckle

against the blue cavernous mouth—

mother ocean, mother yemoja—

the breakage of the body’s dress. i held water

behind my eyelids, called you many names:

reckless. the devil’s hand. the levee

anchoring his legs broke: a storm beading

the floor no accident you bury limbs

under bloodied mess the single tissue a red ribbon oh the places

you gift them as for gods your name katrina

loving the bone slow mother

wreckage mother debris