We took away our masks and the hemoglobin bubbled underneath
I wanted Talk more than I wanted to chip my tooth on real gold
My repression is a mirror I dig beneath cities to touch, smudge
The unspeakable scratching of an animal closed inside a wall
Cheap things are never inside nothing why I get it I get it
Why he must and he must and he must in endless strings of not-Crime
What about the luminous hairs of these men who are gold inside
Why I lob and lob at their limbs for their dull white ambers
Nothing quite bears repeating I am afraid still of being told
Anything when the men the men wilted their hard-ons before me
And I a burn-out queen I a scorchstone stand before you illegible
Show it to you and him and her this animal tit-scratched in a wall
Body fattens under ribs a cow’s enormous skinniness jutted
Pastures is that what you call the gone it stands in considering skin
POETRY