Monday, January 10, 2011

“In my dream, I am your customer.”
—Laurie Anderson, Words in Reverse

In a pagan posture,
in a Cadillac,
my body synched,
manipulated and ruptured
as a locksmith unpinned.
Soothe me,
listen for instruction,
there’s a sultan beneath my breath,
and here my arms: severed by the clock.
The gravel of hypnosis
in my pockets, a beakless swallow,
the grommet of clean pain:
“Handcuff me,” Gandhi said,
“still the strobe and create the motive.”

Saturday, January 1, 2011