Friday, April 13, 2012

Poem: "Prospectus"

Wrote this yesterday. I think it needs another stanza in the middle.


My navel has sunk so deep that it touches
the other side of my body. Flesh rushes in
after the steep fall and leaves the opening
a pulpy slit. You can stick in three fingers
and not reach the tubes of the sea urchin.

My skin is so highly polished that you can
check your face on my bicep, fold it at right
angle at the corner of my elbow, or stretch
and contract over the wide curves of my ass.
You can see the curious crowd behind you.

No one is admitted on just his own merit.
It is by chance or history that you got in.

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