WALKING ON THIN ICE

Lady’s latest

Lady’s new poem . . .

The draped length of the boa constrictor – behold
It has swallowed a chain of chicken eggs
Hold its leathery neck
And feel each egg individually

Massaging coughs them up

An egg has a beak that pecks of its own accord
Something made it, it hatches, it pecks of its own accord
And we are glad of this
for children will be alright
And imprints are made
On their fresh hatched clay

Mercury is a river in the fingers’ sieve,
Mercurial is the mind
But the knobby hand of a divining stick delivers
Revered is the pot which is mended
With gold and we know ourselves
Trophies of remorse

Aspirations wobble on new borne deer
Works are choreographed puppetry
on our own traveled feet
One in front of the other the patient horse
That has to go regardless of the snake’s
Labyrinth this is why, it has to, for what else is there
Other than one in front of the other
And a chain left behind
The left and right hand watches
The arbiter, the eyes

The feet patient and beautiful
Horse hooves plod like thoughtful rain
The body a reservoir of what
Has been felt, a dividend
Holy innocent ground
The stomach which would open to enclose
A womb to protect the world
From that mercurial mind
The hand holding that divining rod
Like a flag on Mount Everest
Claiming an inch every time I can
Here’s how far the oxygen got me
Here is the mindfulness of my foothold
The scaling of the mountains with my hands
I have hands and the dangling feet below
I have the dizzying heights and the dream’s missive
Of paper wings that do not follow the laws of physics
The observer can watch
The tumult of the indecisive tentacles
The spiked labia of a dog’s jowls
Writhing in the lagoon of our downed airplane dream
The wardrobe we push through in the cabin
To enter from an exit
Pecking
Lost in the shopping mall
Lost in the doctors’ offices
Naked in the high school hallway
Late for class
Missed appointment
Big hairy foot nigh
But never here thank God
Just hovering like a joke