Darkness, My Name Is by Michelle Brooks

How Garland tied the string
around the neck, I will never
know. The rattlesnake slithered
in a cardboard box until my
mother put it in the deep freeze.
It didn’t die right away. Neither
did Garland. God watches out
for drunks and sleepwalkers. I
know. I have been both, but
the only leash I managed to fasten
around any neck was my own.


About the Author:
Michelle Brooks has had poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction published in Iowa Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, and elsewhere. Her collection of poems, Make Yourself Small, was published by Backwaters Press in 2011. A native Texan, she has lived in Detroit since Devil’s Night, 1997.