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HISTORY OF ____________

 The moonlight
injects its knives.
You stand there
wondering if
your body isn’t
some heretical machine
pieced together
by time. You feared
becoming this––since  
each transformation
halves the interval
until the animal
space where you stand
is inescapable …
For example, the moon’s
circular saw
demands your confession
If I feel I am monstrous
I am
. And when
the needles of
the acupuncturist
bristled on your neck
by definition
you no longer knew
what you were.
You wonder if it was you
who planted
these hairs under
your skin, installed
in your mouth this
gallery of nails.
Gallantry of
stars, under whose
points you diminish
to this human other
Posted 08/25/09
Comments (1)
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Very good, with choice resonating phrases like "circular saw". The seqence "gallery of nails. / Gallantry of / stars" is striking, in its own right and in the context of the poem's metrical pattern.
08/28/09 1:44am