I am gliding. I am sleek
and thin. I eat nothing.
I do not speak.
People watch me. I see
their eyes like stones.
Such dull mica
like pavements ripped up,
moulded into balls,
popped into a bony socket
where they roll and crack
at me. It’s a long time
since I was last looked at.
It takes courage, this.
I knew when I began
that they would say
this can’t last, laughing.
Their skinny smirks
drove me to my inner bullring
where red gauze
veiled my new body.
I struggled, struggle still,
weak in the face
of my casual fellows.
Poor things.
My weapons are teeth;
I rip my enemies to shreds,
spit them out.
I am more streamlined still!
I am unique, I am primary,
secondary, tertiary.
I am everywhere, I slide
through molecules of rock.
I am so able now.
And still they spit on me!
They look at me like fat.
They say I must become thin.
(1988)
Recent Comments