Tuesday, January 31, 2012

suicide watch and responses

clitoris is always attached now
to circumcision it has creased African matriarchs
approaching with rusty antique knives
not less it is it attached to 6 minutes of dedicated stimulation
as though these were the songs of our age
all day holding it in, laughing, coughing, convulsing
breathing underwater in the slick of facedown thighs
I feel like some worthless heft
on top of you of it all of nothing much but silence and sonar
how dead how deathly imagine how we waded out to the boats
that cold and unjust morning when everything went wrong
our tiny boys hidden under the radiator
as though we didn't have them
the police at the door
over the arches I sang and kept singing
all the way to the suicide watch door of my blood
down the perspex
Bangla Desh flood of blood flower
5am they let me go sober
dreaming of eggplants
what are they?
in the pissing rain
at 5am?


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