Untitled #250 , 1992 Cindy Sherman © |
we are push carted off(s)
we are bent peddled articulations
(we are armed runner sensuous
display hunted ignorance
we have bliss to feed
to feel our taboo-boos with
behind rubber
high
to low order
Venetian mask
rituals)
aging is verboten in this life
sensual aging more so
pubic hair
the lair
of dare you(s)
faces down
palms and knees
begging crown womb society
so instead we farm out tributary language
drape cloth serenade parades
moving to a street forest rhythm nude
with under region hind sight
in mist-slow-finish-gauze-light...
the skin and bones were tents meant to lure you in
it's like practicing having sex with your imagination in the fog
and it is as if what a soul seeks in its Olympics
is all the role arm and leg possible(s)
we use posable dolls, ghost words
letters we once had written
and mathematics to turn the wheels
we cut expression(s) up, putting them back together
poem by poem-piece by piece
photograph and telephone
look at me a dial tone once screamed
I still want the same thighs you do
eggs operator, for breakfast again
yes and would you mind
keeping the yolk whole
'tis a heart
that's part mine in there
and I want to run
with scissors cow and spoon
through its warm silk spill
as we gather provisions
in bucket buckled belled
time in a cycled wax-wane
Beltane's a coming children
come give Momma a kiss
EJR ©
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