GOD
Leo Dicaprio inside the gut of a pony The Revenant
WHERE I’VE GONE TO HIDE FROM GOD
falling spotted pony a splayed+blood-soaked chiaroscuro
enters my bedroom at 2:30 a.m. blood seeping into white entry-level-
mercedez carpet entrails a steaming heap next to the cherry armoire
(a woman must have cherry said Moe furniture salesman extraordinaire)
i rise from the curly-maple bed (our bedroom an urban forest husband
resists wife’s efforts to metro-sexualize his soul)
the spotted pony has my name written all over it i see that i could easily
fill its womb-tomb cavity husband says with a smile: it stinks in there city-girl
i crawl in with Tom Ford’s sin-in-a-bottle clutched firmly in hand soon i
forget the deaths of some sweet ladies we know i danced the tarantella with
one a mere 2 weeks ago
inside the pony i am warm+wet+bloody it is o so familiar now an urban-girl
revenant? a pony soaked Persephone whose name is Spring in 7 languages?
one might think aviva an expert on: resurrection! reinvention! think again
this spotted pony is growing on me i may not come out until Spring or Fall
__
Almost Spring 2016
songanddancegirl 