Wednesday, July 24, 2013
inside falling
I am splintering
inside falling
No way back
to body calling
Earth is shifting
axis flying
No control
is no denying
Fear unleashed
of mad dimension
No recalling
from suspension
All belief
that light prevails
where secrets live
to tell no tales
Nothing left
inside this place
as full, yet empty
all of space
All the voices
crowding 'round
I fall apart
without a sound.
c.MarleneAzoulai2009
BODY
PARTS
She’s got a body that’s everywhere
Body
parts to fit any landscape
She’s
a nation, war-torn, with a man walking all over her
on the six
o’clock news
He’s
an American Goliath standing on a map of the world,
making a war accessible
“This
is where it’s happening,” he says
standing on her navel
“They’re
coming down from the mountains.”
(Even her secret hiding places
those tiny trails through the woods
are being ravaged)
He
walks on
“We
could bring American troops in here,” he says
standing on her knee
A
picture on the screen
of a
child with no arms
of a
man with one leg
of
twelve year-old girls
strip-searched
and raped
held
down, penetrated
and
sown by the enemy
“You’re
mine,” says the soldier
”You’re
conquered.”
His
seed grows
She
rips it from her belly
with
her own hands,
bloody
and salted with tears.
“What
do you want from me?!” she screams
“More
land,” he answers
And
when she cries,
this woman of body parts like the earth
ransacked
the tears only flow from one of her eyes
the one she’s been left with to cry from
a madwoman’s eye with the world in it
and fear looking out
Her
left eye cries
a river of tears
She’s
a tenement in the ghetto with her windows busted out
and torn curtains flapping like bandages in
the breeze
Her
cunt a crack palace, smoke-filled
with dreams by the score
burnt into ashes
She’s
knee-deep in death with an arm full of holes
and the Lord’s prayer in her veins
Thy
will be done,Thy kingdom is come
wet and slick
And
her body, the street silver-edged like a switchblade
cutting the night into bite-sized pieces
She’s
for sale
Her
body parts hollow
empty of wishing that there’s anywhere else
to go
Her
children are shipwrecked in the waters of Lethe
that place in hell where lives are forgotten
and souls rent asunder
like a face in the mirror with one fist
shattered
too many pieces to fit together again
She’s
a lit slit of neon strip in the Las
Vegas desert
a slot machine jackpot of possibility
a hot swollen clit with a G-spot inside
They’re
coming in droves, looking for it
The
big score
Strip-mining
her dry as she glitters and writhes
side-winding her way through the Las
Vegas night
She’s
a flame-throwing sword-swallowing mirage of a woman
Her
blood flowing down the boulevard like abundance itself
She’s
the Red Sea parting
complete with fishes and multiplying loaves,
there for the taking.
She’s
satisfaction guaranteed and topless tonight
with tassels on her teats, swinging this way
and that
like planets rotating out of sync, for ten
cents a pop
while coins, like chains clanking, clinking,
fall into cups.
She’s
big and round and packed solid like a fortress
with a wounded child inside
wearing three year-old shoes
a six year-old blue dress
and eight year-old panties
with the days of the week sewn on
and she doesn’t remember the days
that she lost
where she put them
in the dollhouse she lived in
too tiny for words
curled up like a snail in a shell
in a box in a drawer.
And
now she’s huge, a fat circus lady
with memories of Hiroshima and Chernobyl
If
you listen close, you hear children
keening
like women wailing the dead
She’s
the last breath taken by the last of its
kind
Extinction, a song never heard again
She’s
the hour between night and dawn
when the earth stands still to mourn her
loss
the decimation of whale wolf
rhino
elephant
eagle
of virgin forests highly prized
slashed and burned
their body parts sold to the highest bidder
She’s
a spider-woman with eyes all around her head
looking to the past present and future
weaving her web of Fate
On
the edge of a cliff on one foot balanced
she’s one woman dancing her arms to the sky
One
woman dancing to the beat of the drum
at the heart of the earth
Spiraling
in to gather her selves
her body parts together
Reclaiming
her landscape
©2010MarleneAzoulai
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