May 9, 2007


Shudders, loping--once
the net of swamp plants
shrugged off, engines
kick in. Open sky, it
remembers what it was
made to do--vanishes,
just like that, into
a single winking point.
Sue Storm white-
line ghost me
hovers out to greet you.


What they wanted was
the pliant wax tablet
with my face in it.
Clicking the hungry styli
to deface the impression.
Guess what? Now
the replicas have a little
extra skin.
After all this hugging
the wall, at last the center
of the room slides
into view. There's a seat
for you next to the projector.

Under the fake floor,
99 Furies tilt the ground
in time with my swaying.

1 comment:

sandrasimonds said...


(as usual)