Aught, no. 14 (2005)

Michelle Greenblatt


there must have been an amniotic sac in your in your throat for
what I can tell in shallow depths of arcane accidents that mortify mothers of
masochists that baby you spat right out of your mouth & into

my uterus where she curled fetus-like waiting until the twenty
ninth of November for, at the ages of 12, 17, stripped & blistered cold to heave
me down the hallway ache-running distraught with blood & trees,

moments of never, never, never. the one I love Most. that’s how I met him,
miscarriage hallway, picture a rhythmic running as he caught me
in his arms. then Grabbed. let Go. Grabbed. blackblood milk&honey user black

black black I’m talking to you stop kicking my womb . Mine: tongue writhing.
Mine: trash heaps, burning. Mine: imaginary lover who exists only on top real as flame
on fingertips, real as the shock of electricity wired to my soft parts. My my

my a microphone against my ear as you whisper hush a knife against
my eye, no accident for the birds who want to pick away at scraps of carrion;
the underbelly of my tender flowers, split head open like a melon.



multiply n times 2
and dive right –i-n-t-o
the y of x-it
the diastases of di
aphanous me di
vided by di
chrostic you

so excuse this metation
if the water were still
, clear, enough
wrung from the light
leaving twisted prism
ed mysteries, how the story
is, after all

told: my fingertips
patinaed with the alien
sky reaching toward
down, multiplying
the deja vu by the
intaglioed u, let evening
come, death times i



wrapped in alkali paper by design
deconstructionist just as I once touched
a hideous declension a giant as wide
as a toothpick holding illustrations
of my maddest expectations well color
me young dumb and stupid but aren’t those
your hands shaking my face
down a covert operation in the darkest
light oscillation oscillation coward from
walking I fell into festooned and coagulated
darkness leaching incendiary let me out
of here’s neither brother nor lover so leave
me be first fight I should have warned you
this would happen you say
later dislocation so utterly unlike the doorframe
of displacement
this wasn’t my life
as I willed it to be


Copyright 2005, by the author. All rights reserved.
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