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Blood
flowed from me many times
in significant locations. A Jaipur
garden full of rain with peacocks
dancing on the smooth green lawns
and me huddled, cramping,
under an elaborate sandstone arch.
Hiking
among the Joshua trees,
high desert heat tight over the planes
of skin on my face, careless of where
I put my feet. The rattlers kindly
observing my mind pacing elsewhere,
thinking on the moon-cycle.
Preparing
for a hurricane,
verifying necessities, as they are seen-
food, water, light, a radio
with batteries, to keep me joined,
as before I had joined in a union
whose only fruit was pleasure.
You,
my never-child, my world-son,
have yet to cause the blood to cease,
have not meshed soul with flesh
in me who would be your mother.
I would abandon rajahs, snakes and storms
to seed, and swell, and at last to see.
(for
my child)
