she reaches into the same hat for the rabbit he’s made disappear.
I sleep and the dark takes me for the bone
lightning
straightens.
into something from his childhood
a man
is born. never
far off
what crawls
her way.
nakedness,
give it time
to recover
hell is a book.
she reads it
in a room
that’s alive.
attic or no, I want
to miss
my father.
it was for healing the hand of the plain hand
that I
was touched / well blood
on a bread
crumb
massage me
a brainwashed
worm / well comb
all you want
the eyesight
of god / swallow
a hair
in the house
that birth
built…
–
can’t
this once
a thing
die
in the sanctuary
of its double
I go with dove to high
dives / I am on
the pill
the swimmer’s
pill / for nine
months
I’ve hidden
a rabbit
from no one’s
hormonal
christ
not
for devouring
the mannequin
but for eating
the seeds, it was
(in a coloring
book
for cigarettes)
beaten
by a baby
a baby
could love
when asked
I say
I see
on the floor
of a mudhut
a sex toy
having
a seizure.
I kiss the feet
you’re the future
of.
for anyone who ordered or was sent my newest book of poems, MOON tattoo, please note that the poem ‘vamp’ has a slight error in it other than being written in the first place. the line “I am silent, but did…” shows as “I am silent, bud did…” – such is being one’s own editor. it will be corrected, and if any would like a free signed copy of the book as an apology, message me here or at bartonsmock@yahoo.com
(very sorry)
poem should be as below:
[vamp]
of the body
I would rather
be
punching bag
than funhouse
in the hour
of things
or a thing
for hours…
–
I am not silent
but did
from my father
inherit
the alphabet
most women
use
–
we meet
the same
beginning, recall
–
memory
had its mind
made up
