Marie AntoinetteMarie Antoinette
They gave me shoes, velvet heels that spun like windmills,
dribbles of satin, laces gossamer as imagined spider threads.
They designed me shoes to be orchids, bees drowsed around my feet. I give them names.
But they took my language, words shaped in my own tongue,
familiar as milk and bed.
The language they gave me, I never exactly knew what the words meant.
I pouted, smiled, fluttered my eyelashes until they were hummingbirds.
They murmured of people starving, bakeries hollow of flour,
echoes of the rights of the man. But they said not to worry. Silly things.
So we dressed as shepherdess, lambs washed until they were pillows.
Our crooks hooked the sun. They gave me extravagant pastries,
almond, cherry palaces in my mouth. I could not shape the names.
Then they showed me the cards that were circulating of me, the crowds howled when they saw them.
My face was a false moon on some other body.
This body was on all fours, someone thrusting inside into it.
I heard other wor
Round heelsRound heels
I am sullen and sleeping, green pills, poplar leaves.
When I walk, when I write, I stumble,
fingers slithering, glissading the walls,
a braille of trembling static.
I write when I am awake, three hours,
three weeks more they tell me.
Green sleeves, round heels, the essence of excess.
He wooed her extravagantly
until he snipped her neck,
the ax a crescent moon, swallowing the light, her blood.
I am lavish in my dreaming as he was in his wooing,
woodcock and sonnets, my heels blistered from so many hours in bed, knees bent.
I dream of that ax. It was a delicate neck they said
and so is mine.
I am a confection, marzipan and almonds, cream whipped.
I dazzle because I am told to dazzle,
the most argent jewel brings coin,
lineage, princes, court favors.
The court hisses, lizards' tongues in your ears, milky green but sweet.
I was told to be sweet. The hand touching me ever so hard,
meet me in the garden, the grotto, the hallway, anyplace that smells of silence.
Just do not breath even sigh, forget whimpering or crying because I am powerful.
And they were, god I would rather rut in a cow fetid pen and in lust.
But they are powerful and I am coin to be paid, a service to barter.
I think besides the truth that a lizard’s tongue is milky green,
the color of potions. philosopher’s stone, spell anything to gold.
My father turned me to gold currency, a most excellent trick,
rabbits in hats, their ears tender white leaves.
But he gave me since I was 14 to a man almost early year
for power, favors, the best seat at the table,
so he wouldn’t die from some mys
I cut myself, jagged edge of a can, swooping my fingers around the curved tin,
trying to find whatever was left,
a swift rounding the sky. You tried to swab the bleeding,
old newspapers, junk mail, even a used tampon.
But I stopped bleeding. I learned not to bleed much.
It causes people to pay attention.
We found a pizza crusted and stiff, a half moon of red coral.
Who knows maybe they were bored or died before they ate the rest.
Still the cut throbs and sings to me, a prophecy.
So I sit in the corner, surrounded by peeling tires,
bits of rubber like unhatched larvae, water things
with thoractic legs. They can move but I cannot.
You let me tell you stories, a baby rhino named Ellen.
She is wonderful and built a raft.
You inch closer to me until we are a nest of enclosing arms and legs.
If I look, I can only see a slant of light that is not us.
Food TraysFood Trays
Our fingernails are grimy crescent moons, public restrooms are often so busy.
You want to hide that we are trying to bathe there.
For a week, you fed me spoonfuls of chicken broth,
the fever an insistent voice, the sky a white sheet,
who wouldn't want to sleep on a white sheet.
Instead we slept on snail trailed, needle pock holed mattress,
insect eggs a map of the holy land.
There was one crusade of children,
most of them died or were sold, bartered into slavery.
We won’t go there because we both remember what that means.
But I remember a spoon entering my mouth, tinny saltiness.
You said I raved but I don't remember what I said
except I wanted to hear the Blue Oyster Cult's "Astronomy".
I stole food, trays left behind on the plush green grass, I would simply pick them up,
then enter as though I belonged and I would feast. I fed you stolen peanut butter sandwiches.
I wrapped them in paper napkins then I shoved them into my backpack cowering beneath the table.
We were s
People are gnawed in fairy tales, eyes, tongues pecked,
such sweet berries. This is comforting, pain visible.
To give someone your heart cut out with a blunt knife
much more satisfying then to say "you hurt me".
Milky toast, so civilized, we are better they say.
When she spoke frogs leapt out, grass green, eyes budging,
miniature universes gleaming with the idea of infinity.
There is no end. We will tell these stories forever.
The mirror told her stories. When she was young, she trembled
every time she heard those footsteps. They were always his.
The mirror asked for blood, so she cut and cut.
And the footsteps went away so why not ask the mirror for other things.
Especially when you obtain a spoiled brat of a step daughter,
servants who remember the former wife so fondly.
And you are always lacking.
So I tell myself stories, why not. The cat yawns at me,
eyes hooded. I sometimes repeat myself.
But we both sit. I yawn at her. She yawns at me.
Above us the sky yawns utterly bemu
The troll has eaten the princess.
She crawled and jabbed sticks into crannies,
silk rustling skirts hiked to her knees.
She peered into the blank space beneath the bridge
that bristled with the smells of dank water and pitted stone.
Tadpoles wiggled the dull black of old bark.
It was exciting, no more needles grinding into linen
stitching petulant posies, drooping lilies.
After awhile dancing balls drone, waltzes spin like irritating children tops,
the kissing of hands chafe.
So she dropped to her knees, the mud supple against her hands.
It was exciting being eaten.
Sharp moss scabbed teeth, hooked fingernails
the yellow of dead sunflowers
piercing, digging into her porcelain flesh.
Cracks spread threaded with blood.
She simply mewed.
But now something fiercely blooms inside the troll's stomach
until the day he will split apart and she emerges to eat them all.