my roman nose did not
fit the cupboard womb
as I stared at
the silhouette
of a ketchup stain on  
a breakfast table
raw burger meat,
ripe debutantes
all bathed in
glycerin and
self-destruction
waiting for teeth
or the occasional knife
(chaining themselves
to trees
whose seeds mostly
wander)

I came here alone
(use me and squeeze me)
the insides of the
shrinking constitution,
the demure dissident
such a thrill
to smear my guts
all over the newspapers
to see the visions
of the
ink so
honeysuckle
intertwined


I pressed
against
the greasy
diner table
arms crossed
to hide my face behind
a promise to be
waiting for you
open mouthed
and mute
chiaroscuro, blind