{i remember}

She comes to presence
in a great wave of grief
that has no bottom.

{water cannot swim}

Feeling the unbearable
weight of womanhood
tearing me open,
revealing my own sorrows.

{a channel of life}*

To be a gate of love and blood,
the flesh of desire,
bearer of all burdens,

was so traumatic I was reborn
in the body of a man.

To-night is dark, so
  step lightly and carry
  a large lamp into
  the howling woods

Wisdom says run, run
  to dark caves and
  harrowing silences
  mirror the bottomless

The abyss, gazing
  headlong into itself,
  recoils in horror,
  shudders dis-eased

And only lamp-light,
  courage flick'ring
  in oppressive depth
  persists, defiant

A stain on un-becoming
  a trampler of stars
  peddler of filth
  who knows all the answers.

Tyger Tyger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

She's a rainbow

-- that rainbow in every
rock song about nothing,
a hidden hook that snares
a sucker's wallet

   *I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for her

She
is the philosopher's stone transmuting
garbage lines into shiny trinkets
in desirous minds

   When you're old, nobody will know
   that you was a beauty

         What would pop culture be
         without woman to exploit?

   She's a gooooooood girl
   crazy 'bout Elvis

Obscured, behind
the Micks and Pettys
   the Kellys and Ushers
      the Pauls wailing MAMAAAAA
         the free spirit groupie cliché

is Woman fictionalized
by peacocking pimps
deceptive plumage splayed

is Woman
   sung about
   talked at
   reduced to an abstraction
   dispensed with
   forgotten
   and sold
   and the men
get rich.