"Press sideways,
I could lie like this forever."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
Breakfast With Frankenstein
I concoct you on sheets of glass, _______________________________________________________________ Frankenstein On Red Meat
Many rings maze on my tongue. The bare guide will not stop bleeding. _______________________________________________________________ Frankenstein, Love
Sun hurts your stitches. You are forever
_______________________________________________________________
give you diction, a scarab tongue
that speaks through masks.
Mist of gnats, snail call
at 6 a.m., earthly jacket and tie--
No. It would never suit you.
A robe of fossils? Graft of rose?
Other masters stopped here
to wash their wrists of blood.
Shout. Try to divert me,
strain against cell walls,
each pillaged rib. Press sideways,
I could lie like this forever.
The shape I gave you yesterday,
what was that? Cadillac
shoulders, Ori Olokum head?
I've had much of you, thick rabbit,
and become much more than I like.
Topsy-turvy, murderous premonitions. Then a ball
in the throat and blossoms of sleep.
piecemeal, ramshackle: a new continent.
I'm stoking your biography:
blood-soaked mud, a load of bones,
purifying salt, semen. No lightning.
A sterile room, a few tubes...
questions would make this impossible
and plaster over all open doors.
It was a mistake to give you those eyes:
dark, cavorting, unShelley'd.
Rival animals haunt you,
but if I gave you the head
of a leopard, you'd hate me.
In another chapter we might have
married, but for my bone picking
and your late night walks
to a manicurist named Lily.
Perhaps more than one master
would have been better;
I could love the parts
I didn't give you.