Inside the Jar,
How mislead you have been,
To think that the meat
Is the head bobbing on your neck
When it was the rising yellow fowl
That gave you the hymen,
The cardigan
And the dead sheepskin you call your sweater,
They are all part of the blindness
We see through spheres open shut,
You should have retreated the cabbage out from the range,
You will
Just
Take a sordid space
In a parchment laced with semen,
These dancing letters
That stomped
And raped
Our hole,
There is no escape but the
Earsplitting silence we must broach,
There is no escape
But to kiss the evil
And un-violate her flesh,
See her in the stillest of water
Turn her inside out,
You will discover
The conceit,
Staring us in the cupboard,
First published on Nov. 2, 2011 (The Chair)
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