RESTLESS
IN RESTLESS WALKS SHE’LL PROWL THE NIGHT
In 6 inch heels I clomp by April World coming alive
Are you starving or just empty inside? he asked with am I
ever brilliant eyes The body does not lie or at least that’s
the theory But is it able to pick up on nuance? Hunger vs.
emptiness of the spiritual kind?
Those pangs were trying to tell you something all winter +
each time you just stuffed your face with profiteroles Now it
seems your jeans are 2 sizes small +you’re likely pregnant with
the Messiah Or a pregnant pause before they take you kicking +
screaming +buddha-bodied into your 6th decade
Where you will madly dash toward your maker who has a gold tooth
+ a glass eye +smells like curdled milk They will think you so brave
Little will they know that you are running from not toward And at your
heels are the hellhounds sniffing the fecund air as April come she will
cleaves into May
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April The Cruellest Month
songanddancegirl 