She was so wet by the time you arrived

you put your hand right through her.

So you are water now, too?

She thought she was everything!

You turned her over and over,

wondering at the parts of her that were wood,

that were born in the wild as you were born in the wild,

fur and gold and from the trees themselves

a black marriage.

In other words:

she lost it.

Her head hanging by a thread,

which the love-dogs snapped at day and night

the thread glistening, red

and delicious.

But the dogs

dragged back,

leaving dark dreams of wet teeth

and all her hair on the pillow

shocked clear of her scalp.

The mirror laughed.

She scooped up what was spilled

and hauled herself home,

heaving the skin suitcase

locked but leaking

a spoiled trail,

a bleak glistening in the dirt.

No one trod that path,

no tracker tracked.

You were long gone.

The sea intervened.

You tried to push your love across it simply

did not make it.

Stuck in some swell.

She could have done something different. Didn’t.

Stumbled along.

Once free she spent a long time just wondering

what or where she was

touching the scar

on her neck the thread still fresh

howling for her lost nymphage

shaking the dead foot

trying to be human.

Knowing she must have been, once.

Cursing the feeling.

No beasts at all in the city

no bats no nothing

maybe some tanked fish in a Chinese restaurant that’s it.

She sat outside with a piece of steak

waving it raw in the night—

Here, fox, she cried. Here, dragon-dragon—

cursed the tame things that came instead,

jabbed their ribs with her shoe

ate the steak and choked

wept steadily into a jar

licked the rim

cut her tongue

then went to bed and pissed it.

Pathetic!

She’s not so pretty these days,

not nearly so prancing so proud—

I saw her in the glass and just had to laugh.

And her laugh was an echo, a leaf

pierced by the viper’s teeth.

Sharpen those scissors.

Close the window.

Sing the fucking song.

I don’t take gentleness for granted now

I don’t let beauty in I just don’t.

DEUS EX MACHINA

DEUS EX MACHINA

Drinking was one of the things I thought about doing.

Because in the movies that’s how it is, a beautiful drunk

woman wandering around the city in a thin coat and high

heels. But instead I was eating in bed all day listening to the

traffic with the blinds closed I was so hungry I forgot what

pens were for. Wore a single pair of stretch pants. Paid for

the pizza in quarters. What was my a-ha moment you ask

well I’ll tell you. It was knocking a liter of Pepsi onto a stack

of high school notebooks beside the bed I was shit-faced

on Snickers and chicken wings that was my rock bottom.