she's a lovely cold sculpture, marble nude with her head cut off,
a sexartwar reality keeps the rattlesnake that bit her
in a peanut butter jar, like voodoo
she's a painting of a painting, a revlon reproduction - venus
on the half-shell, phosphorus and effervescent, arms wide like happy hour
and everybody’s glow in the dark expectations
coming true
she wears a uniform of fingerprints, her angels in aprons overshadowed
by dogs playing poker, howling her attention, sniffing her flavors,
she cleans up and collects whatever ass-grabbing heroes will spare,
nickels quarters dimes, her rent money jingles
she’s a time-traveling daydream, her mind leaping thru wormholes,
her body serving smiles here, head swimming in future grace
on long bus rides she rearranges mental furniture (symbolic sofas
in relation to symbolic windows, grand pianos on top of glass coffee tables
on top of brass buddha candle holders)
impossible plans and fingers crossed
she stuffs her soul into shoes too small, stretches her body into double-shifts,
overtime in underground nightclubs, basements full of hey-dudes
and hey-bros in hey-ho-lets-go rattlesnake bliss, all slither and silk,
licking each syllable - hey-girl
wanna-git-wit-thissssssss?
she’s twenty-seven now, still standing in a doorway, evolving,
revolving in and out of fear and doubt and circles of dead inception (sex-
art-war-sex-art-war-sex-art-war-sex art war)
see her scrubbing tables? see her bleaching her reflection?
scratching thru the surface the varnish comes unglued, see her
wash away? the moment splits in two, a small voice becomes urgent,
like some twisted edvard munch screaming
fuckthisshitiwantout!
put the wardrobe back on the mannequin,
pose it in the kitchen, the display window,
the pastry tray,
slip out of her mona lisa cage,
past the light and dark of double judgment,
where the art ends and her mind
begins,
where the black earth washes her feet
removing miles of bad road,
turning stone back to flesh,
winter-thawed and summer-bound,
aprilish - singing rich with reunited
gaia heart (i am universe
i am
universe,
i am
uni
verse)
perfect
of poets and fools,
see her
holding the moon in her hands?
