Friday, January 15, 2010

i see invisible magicians

anatomy is
bones and blood and
sea horses
and the tiny blue letters
i can almost read
when i look at their fat,
protruding veins

i ask God questions
when i look at the sky
even when i can't see
the sun because there are bunny rabbits
that are so silent and they
don't say anything

the patio furniture was old
and greasy, the linen
marred by the excretion of birds

but i sat there anyway
and you couldn't make me budge
even if you had started crying
(i knew all along i wasn't any good)

you're begging to be analyzed
until i start bleeding from
the place on my thumb where i bit
down when i wasn't aware

she asked for truth and i gave it
to her and if you wanted it too
you could search me out:
all i want is to tell the truth

it's the not wanting to hear it
that instructs us
not to go poking our noses
searching for it
or we might get scratched by
that funny-scented hedge
we left back in Herefordshire.

that was before i stopped the consumption
that was before i noticed the resemblance to the fiction
that was the before part of "before and after"

copyright Miss Erin McIntosh, 2010
please do not reprint without permission
Poetry Friday roundup
at Great Kid Books


cuileann said...

hums with appreciation. a particularly good flow to this one.

Q said...

Today is one of those days I feel privileged to know you.

Edge said...

Q said it all.