i have mastered the ridges
that crawl over his spine
and i have mastered their every attitude

in precious dimensions he is every blush-kneed girl
and each careful prowling girl
and each eye with spindly legs to stand
and the one transparent eyeball with no legs and no need

it is in these ghouls that he is in me
and in all things i take up

from my matinal ablutions i go to my meal
from my dresser i take and unfold my constant laundry

task after task each performed under spectre
of eyeballs on knobby stilts
of bones and girls unfolding
and of all i can say when
said is a landscape of silence--
i cannot claim
what hands have mastered
be it spine or spleen

the white of his skin,
it escapes me.

03/03/2007

Posted on 03/03/2007
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