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Genghis Khan BBQ Apron

Genghis Khan’s brother’s car rolled down the hill and became stuck in a snowbank on the way to hockey practice. His children were white peonies, horses on the faraway hills. Sunday mornings at the kitchen table, the wife of Genghis Khan’s brother created cities out of ground pepper, then became the wind causing merchants down Main St. to doubt the mercy of their God and, in tiny plangent voices, to call for the invention of insurance. Genghis Khan’s brother’s dog was a dolphin in a silk tent, a rare bird with the wingspan of a tall ship or a sequoia. We swim through the sand in our dreams. The dog was the mouse-coloured dusk in the patient eye of a yak. The mother of both brothers collected table legs as if they were eyes. Three eyes and there is uncertainty, four and there is the assurance of stability. Destiny is a table made of sand, yak’s blood, and the hockey practices of owls. Genghis Khan’s brother looked into the distance and saw an empire of loss, his children standing at the goal line waiting for ice to form. Genghis Khan’s brother lay down in the battery compartment of a TV remote. Beside him, there was a small scooped out space for his brother, Genghis, scourge of Asia.