This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Purple as tulips in May, mauve
into lush velvet, purple
as the stain blackberries leave
on the lips, on the hands,
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
The construction of a woman:
a woman is not made of flesh
of bone and sinew
belly and breasts, elbows and liver and toe.
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs
but I've never seen wheat in a pile.
Apples, potatoes, cabbages, carrots
make lumpy stacks, but you are sleek
Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging,
continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten
veins of fire deep in the earth and raising
tons of rock into jagged crests of Sierra.
We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
The dark socket of the year
the pit, the cave where the sun lies down