Me at the Edge of My Skin (part 1 of 2)
Me at the Edge of My Skin
(part 1 of 2)
Surrealism after Andre Breton
Me with the hair of twine cats claw
with the hair of a palm in a hurricane
hair of long pine and icicles
Me with a forehead of relaxed saran wrap
with a third eye asleep in wet dust
that blinks in open heat
Me with eyelashes, lines of black ink
drawn on the belly of an egg
and with brows of the felt skirt of a fat doll
ironed with an old scouring brush
Me with eyes that hold breath
With eyes that swallow old women and children
and boys who play basketball without the hoop
Me with a nose of a ballerina’s shoe
with the mouth of crushed berries
dripping from a clay bowl
a mouth of a torn envelope
With the mouth of a frozen Gumby
Me with the mind of a flattened nickel with no date
a gargoyle escaped from the Church of Notre Dame
a funnel filled with fresh icing
My mind the ring of Saturn
on which sits galaxies whispering electricity
Me with thought that lightens the load
of the washer woman
thoughts that place peanut butter
behind raisins in an open cupboard