Serpentongue

 

                                                          You            said

                                                                 they      would

                                                                    eat     me

                                                                    up  alive.

                                                       “They will chew you

                                                        up and spit you out.”

                                                    Verbatim. You smile, but

                                                   I can count the # of times

                                                    that you’ve lied. You have

                                                    no power here. Now I am

                                                    the grinner marching dust

                                                    roads in the winter. If only

                                                       you would listen. If only a

                                                           whittled song, water-sharp,

                                                              could reach you. If only we

                                                                  could starve off the growth.

                                                                   But truth has no bounty, as it

                                                                  whistles skyward on a tattered

                                                                       wing. It should be burrowing

                                                                        into your skin. Meanwhile a

                                                                       pen curls again and again, a

                                                                     promise, a dream. Scratches

                                                                    it out. Again and again. Time

                                                                is a curious thing, as it wades

                                                              back into a treacly grave until

                                                           star-hair is all we can see. I’ve

                                                      always thought that the cosmos

                                                   looked tangled. Someone needs

                                                to give it all a good brush. O, but

                                             what sacrifice would your god(s)

                                           ask for in exchange to straighten

                                          out the world with a whalebone?

                                           + I don’t believe the universe to

                                             be so prude; self-organizing its

                                            own self. It’s too horny for chaos.

                                              You aren’t any different, wriggling

                                                  your way into a new one. I wonder

                                                     when my time is near: will I recall

                                                        your name? What letter will it start

                                                        from again? No reply, so I snap back

                                                      from my death-bed. Back to the war-

                                                   warmth of now. I tend to my torch. I

                                                cut my hair. The month smells like a

                                              sunset. Without a tie that binds, I

                                          walk forward through fallen leaves.

                                       Five thousand fireworks—crimson

                                    curse words—bomb my feet. You

                                won’t submit. Your harpy wings

                              blast mouthfuls of musty air my

                          way. I alternate between psalms

                     and exorcisms. I surrender to my

                  sighs. I shake fist, bow down, bite

               the earth. Just do what needs to be

             done. The trick is learning to love

         what’s in your mouth. The other is

       tasting everything. Bitterness does

      not frighten me. Refusal? How délice.

        I’ve turned my palette into a power—

         plant for disappointment and disgust.

             Burn it down. Grease me up. To think,

                I laugh, to think I haven’t shed my skins,

                       haven’t sprung a thousand eyes? As if

                              my name and bones were short, as if

                                     my heart don’t shake the ground. Of

                                            course, I say nothing to you. My eyes

                                                watch yours as they roll.  You can’t see

                                                      the tooth-scars all on me. Can’t sense I

                                                           have crawled out of bellies and won.

                                                                 That I have learned the language

                                                                        of bleeding, or touched my

                                                                              soul and been stung. So

                                                                              please, say think what

                                                                                 what you say think

                                                                                      about me. But I

                                                                                       know who’s

                                                                                       the eater,

                                                                                       and it’s

                                                                                        moi.

Perfect Time to Fall

               The seed of transformation is hidden

               in a thunderclap.

                              Cast your grains to the wind, let it

                              strip you of your riches.

                                                            Someday the Atlantic will vomit its

                                                            dead, and then, what then?

                                                                           How will justice be fed to a million

                                                                           fish-heads?

                                                                                          A child quakes in the night, a closet

                                                                                          door groans.

                                                                                                         Soon the heart and the brain will

                                                                                                         move as one.

                                                                                                                        There is nothing in evil

                                                                                                                                                      but more evil.

                                                                                                         There is nothing in hate but

                                                                                                         meek love.

                                                                                          Trunks split, shells break, a jaw

                                                                                          loses to cement.

                                                                           The words you are looking for have

                                                                           already given birth.

                                                            Their children are scattered like ashes

                                                            beneath the great houses.

                                             No-one can raise a spade, code a bomb,

                                             crack the crypt alone.

                              So take my hand. Call a friend. We are

                              dancing in the fields tonight.

               We are summoning the rapture

               by Christmas.

We are taking back the names of the dead.