| I carefully rearranged my senses
|
| So they could have a conversation
|
| Taught them to switch places;
|
| From each pore in my skin grew shimmering eyes!
|
| And fingerprints filled the eye sockets
|
| From the ears grew two tongues
|
| And I sang for people passing a strange song
|
| Told them stories without moving my lips!
|
| (Mouth half-open, still)
|
| They assumed the words came from themselves;
|
| These unfamiliar thoughts
|
| And I sang to them:
|
| Aaaaaa Aaaaa Aaaaaaaaaaaaa
|
| Such is the speech of the body:
|
| The ribs painted their fingernails
|
| (Black! of course)
|
| And on the edges of the cunt
|
| Grew little teeth!
|
| The clitoris, that great sphinx, opened its eye:
|
| So many blind years, acting Oedipus
|
| Meanwhile the vocal chords were listening
|
| For the wind howling
|
| Whispering a familiar language of breath —
|
| Secret tales for them to learn
|
| Then from my veins came a strange itching
|
| And I felt a pull through the shoulder blades
|
| I should have seen it coming!
|
| The blood was itching!
|
| And etched a hole at the nape of the neck
|
| It flew out into the night
|
| Like a long, red ribbon to the sky
|
| And up we went, blood and I, spread over the city
|
| The dark sky lay against my skin
|
| So close —
|
| Like an eyelid |