Interrupted
I hurt in five
different ways--
The soul wound cracks like
light under a doorway,
I must sleep
with the door open.
A flashlight shines its light
into my eyes, interrupted
Mirror
I hurt in five
different ways--
The self-inflicted wound is
dusted with gun powder and
filled with medication. On the Titanic,
the band still played. A mirror
looks back at me, but I do
not recognize its grinning face.
Salt & Pepper
I hurt in five
different ways--
the love wound,
sprinkled like sugar
but curdled like milk,
salt pulling away from
pepper in water, warm.
Am I so repulsive?
Spores
I hurt in five
different ways--
the father wound
is sick like a cancer,
microscopic tumors growing out
into lungs, and livers, and spines.
like spores of mold or fungi.
It spreads like pain and infects like hope.
Birds
I hurt in five
different ways--
the mother wound
is painful like open-heart
surgery. Scalpel dissecting a life
force of scarlet blood, pumping.
I did not ask for this.
Yet, the birds fly anyway.
