Part One
Not me said the Jenny
all spun and hung from
a tree branch, dead
and she tosses her guilt
her blame, her shame
like a wedding bouquet
You mistake me for
something so happy
and fed, Go! Spend
your noon- we'll
give you a spoon
I am the kind of joy
that hangs from every
near dread- the handle
the candle (the candle)
the locked door and
the latch
Miss Jenny,
spoon fed

Part Two
I am a friend to all
animals and they are
a friend to me, we share
our blood, the same
slow trickle, the flood
I am like Saint Francis
hold me, you animal
close to your chest
feel the flood of
blood's cadence
the surge, the drop
to the floor, how
I say love