untitled

we are no longer women; straining our necks with the weight of our breasts
long slender necks that pursuade to the chin,
hold out our heads as bulbed-white gods.
every beat, a momentum in continuous form,
every call, a light-house directing the point,
barking vees arrow the parallel ground,
some surface that knew us until we learned how to do this.


down

knee deep in your daily beast
funny is the way i hear.
holding your egg in the cave of my chest,
i am comfortable beneath the phoenix down
& even the wind that drives me naked
across the desert i was born,
a mattress of cattle-stamp wheat
& heralds hark, beauty under bluffed cloud.