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The Garden of Earthly Delights
after the triptych by Hieronymus Bosch
1. Paradise
Fowl & beast skirt our feet.
I float sexless–
porcelain doll
with eyes that open
& close. Please,
no half-swallowed frog,
legs pitch-forked
& helpless
in some bird’s unnatural
mouth, no
feral cat’s
dangle-jawed mouse.
This hunger, his gift to us–
the animal appetites
as yet unnamed, our own
still unacknowledged.
Songbirds spiral
& swarm like bees
smoked from a honeyed
hive. A warning.
2. Fallen
Rose-bellied finches
larger than man.
Eyes like a damson stone.
Stripped bare
& plumed emergency-
bright, my lips
feather & fledge.
The egg’s open skull a bed
wide enough for all.
Rinse my palate
–mouth-deep in red–
strawberries
swollen to the exact
size of my desire.
Hip to hip,
be it fish or fowl, be it
man or beast–
the body
does not discriminate.
3. Hell
strung & luted spread your legs
what goes in must come out
the banquet table en flambé
stomach plastered & pink
a knife a rattle a long, hard hiss
consumption a torso carved
the bird-man takes another
–ah, the slings & arrows–
canapé: you & your frog-legs
beneath the throne–the pit
1. Paradise
Fowl & beast skirt our feet.
I float sexless–
porcelain doll
with eyes that open
& close. Please,
no half-swallowed frog,
legs pitch-forked
& helpless
in some bird’s unnatural
mouth, no
feral cat’s
dangle-jawed mouse.
This hunger, his gift to us–
the animal appetites
as yet unnamed, our own
still unacknowledged.
Songbirds spiral
& swarm like bees
smoked from a honeyed
hive. A warning.
2. Fallen
Rose-bellied finches
larger than man.
Eyes like a damson stone.
Stripped bare
& plumed emergency-
bright, my lips
feather & fledge.
The egg’s open skull a bed
wide enough for all.
Rinse my palate
–mouth-deep in red–
strawberries
swollen to the exact
size of my desire.
Hip to hip,
be it fish or fowl, be it
man or beast–
the body
does not discriminate.
3. Hell
strung & luted spread your legs
what goes in must come out
the banquet table en flambé
stomach plastered & pink
a knife a rattle a long, hard hiss
consumption a torso carved
the bird-man takes another
–ah, the slings & arrows–
canapé: you & your frog-legs
beneath the throne–the pit
Posted 01/31/17
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