>> Friday, October 23, 2009
Unblinking faces, flat and numb, hair well combed, attire clean,
made for special customers , we are not displayed on stalls,
like posters adorning walls, advertising dentists, teachers, elocutionists,
fresh goods, recycled, from all over,
we seem freshly arrived or taken by some privateer.
At times our owners linger on the fringes,
shouting the virtues of their wares
to those who can not read the signs
more often, our posters do the shouting.
‘This elegant face lives a comfortable and gracious life
with their happy and healthy family.’
You’d think our physical descriptions sound like
Sunday customers at your grocer.
some probably are, I am one amongst many,
wherever I am. Getting ready to run.
Sitting on a gilded chair waiting for my bidders,
the icy demeanor not to melt. Through other windows
I can watch the show, shuffling back and forth, patiently,
everyone holding their signs to the windows, for us to see.
Some scurry over me in all fours, they pounce
I promise a list of referrals, photographs, records,
neither of us meaning a word of it.
I love being shocked,
growing wonderfully imperious and offended.
We meet often, exchanging subtle nods of recognition.
They keep fancying me as a runaway. My answers
to their questions are shapeless.
Nouns without verbs.
Lust. Desire. Connection. Weakness.
What I say doesn’t matter. What I don’t, does.
I want a man’s body, a man’s voice in the dark
I can not imagine a life with children,
in a house where I’d live and die, far from home.
I can not imagine building a hearth
that would put a soul in house shared with one
Not now. Not yet. I can imagine no future until I’d rid myself
of the pursuit of the present. I do go on.
There are a few people listening this time.
Its very difficult. You might try it someday.
Believe me, you’d sing a different tune
if you had to risk yourself; as I must.