fiufiu!
like a boss.
do not hug the bieber.
michael lava, paul enxuga.
love is all you need.
i have done it again.
one year in every ten
i manage it —
a sort of walking miracle, my skin
bright as a nazi lampshade,
my right foot
a paperweight,
my face a featureless, fine
jew linen.
peel off the napkin
o, my enemy.
do i terrify? —
the nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
the sour breath
will vanish in a day.
soon, soon the flesh
the grave cave ate will be
at home on me
and i, a smiling woman.
i am only thirty.
and like the cat i have nine times to die.
this is number three.
what a trash
to annihilate each decade.
what a million filaments.
the peanut-crunching crowd
shoves in to see
them unwrap me hand and foot —
the big striptease.
gentlemen, ladies,
these are my hands,
my knees.
i may be skin and bone,
nevertheless, i am the same, identical woman.
the first time it happened i was ten.
it was an accident.
the second time i meant
to last it out and not come back at all.
i rocked shut
as a seashell.
they had to call and call
and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
dying
is an art, like everything else.
i do it exceptionally well.
i do it so it feels like hell.
i do it so it feels real.
i guess you could say i’ve a call.
it’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
it’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
it’s the theatrical
comeback in broad day
to the same place, the same face, the same brute
amused shout:
“a miracle!”
that knocks me out.
there is a charge
for the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
for the hearing of my heart —
it really goes.
and there is a charge, very large charge,
for a word or a touch
or a bit of blood
or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
so, herr doktor.
so, herr enemy.
i am your opus,
i am your valuable,
the pure gold baby
that melts to a shriek.
i turn and burn.
do not think i underestimate your great concern.
ash, ash —
you poke and stir.
flesh, bone, there is nothing there —
a cake of soap,
a wedding ring,
a gold filling.
herr god, herr lucifer,
beware
beware.
out of the ash
i rise with my red hair
and i eat men like air.
