"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



She had cult-ish hair  pawned her crown

Into cheap tricks & rhetoric   A  Fisher Queen

if I ever did see one


Wounds ran deep   Spitting image of cult-ish

haired mother   Wolf eyes belied a sweetness

& a coquetry so seasoned   she unhinged Kings


Met her at 4   she said:  I’m gonna get nadopted

But went home once more  where baby brother

burned on stove   Wolf eyed mother left kids

alone   again


I heard that 10 yrs. later she worked the street corner

where audacious lofters searched for warm brunches

& the Grail    For 30 yrs. I entered a room  spoke an arcane

language   where small P.O.W.’s  greeted me   pre-verbally


An older boy who could speak said: It will get dark Therapist     very dark

The voice still stalking me on the terrace   Don’t talk to me

about  metamorphosis   please



Fall 2013

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