About psychology
Dear mind-lover,
Never the life-partner:
What is it that you seek?
We could talk about anything out there
Forever, if only the clock
Left us alone.
But clocks have a better eyesight than I.
Was I the dirt
To scrape off your heart? A pacemaker
To crush?
A juice of life
That would have killed you?
One more crumb, and I would have crumbled.
Lanugo,
Shedding wisterias.
Martyrs in furs
march in birthing pains;
Molting.
Thousands of feet shuffle
Under a coffin –
Quiet.
Blue lips dangle,
Groping for inevitability.
Pale hide taut across
The fingernails,
Waiting.
Something stirs,
Pushing out
Unarmed, unborn velvet
Cloistered in a Friesian’s mane;
A one-eyed blink.
I neigh
To wake him up; black tar
Braids my brows with
Strings tied underground;
Our arms one, membraned
Wings unfold,
Hesitant.
We are not us; he is
Soot racing after
Hooves crushing carrions;
I sit across,
Smooth-legged, lashes tight,
Taking out my final match –
A flick tries
To shave the panthers off my breasts:
Blessed
Rose of keratin, seal
My cleft palate
With a wooden brush.
My moans grind, lips part,
Eyes shut on a crumbling leaf;
My blackness and I, prostrate, lay
On dried manure checkered with
Sprouting
Knee-high baby hair.
Clip my wings
With a scissor blade,
So I can’t fly away;
Shoot me down –
Let me be a goose
Tumbling down from the sky;
When I land,
Let the worms burrow
Into my belly;
Stack up wood,
Drown it in oil –
Lay me on top;
Steal the heaviness
Of muscle and bone
Dragging me down;
Scatter my ashes
Where wild deer feed,
So I can guide them.
