Monday, April 30, 2012

an old one, meant to be spoken out loud



bleeding badly and from the bottom of my ego “let go” echoes from my body of eager owning “this is not your battle!” the battered womyn shatters me crawling up through my mouth & shouting with shock it's about what's south but it's not about the cock crowing too soon nor the sun sewing up the moon's wounds tuned into such ambivalent imbalance i'm an imbecile unfocused cussing out my halves with words like victory and victim and trickery and sitcom so aggressively i grieve for such losses bossy & dynamic it's sick how much power i might wield shielded they cry bitch or more depending upon the engendered or endangered crowd sometimes my pain is so loud it scares me into joy boy! i might have been born with crisscrossed chromosomes kicking my belly & melting all down my unlimited legs so my mouth fights with frightful fears of gears plunging inward not just piercing me but twisting it thoroughly through & pretending peace is still the answer so it's preached & priested to the pronouned communities yet spilled a lot like hot blood clotting under the doors of our own home yet we've burned sage together sweetened a room with disposable laughter shared a supper a cigarette shaped our space into somewhat of a shelter so battered i crawl to safety in a sanctity that fits like a cage

fall 2002

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