Self-Portrait from Issue 95
Little gal, who knit thee?
Dost thou know who knit thee?
Gave thee milk & bid thee beg
Slid a purse between your legs
Stuffed thy brain with blooms of blight:
algae, wool. You’re lichen-white.
Gave to thee such vicious lungs
for breathing glitter past your wrongs—
Little gal, I’ll tell thee,
Little gal, I’ll tell thee!
I, who cut your palms with glass
& poured in poison tasse by tasse
I am nimble. I am young.
I peeled you with a pair of tongs.
I laughed when no one loved you back
& raked the mist to scarf your flesh.
We come together in the dirt.
I, a rake & thou a twig;
All day we watch the long pig dig.
All day we watch the long pig dig.
