Wednesday, February 22, 2012

THE DEATH OF YOUR CAT

you are my blood poem, necessary
error; holding
your injury like an eye
over my mouth, what
i meant
to say was, this
is an unreasonable image--
your heat rising like a fist

someone's face shaped
around an ugly word. i am
a fraud in the glass image
of paper in water. all
of your haze
in the bath, taking an april
month personally, as if to say
this kindness as optional,
an object commonly misplaced,

disregarded as soil, and peels,
in the dark. i dreamt
of a horse dying in darkness, and silence
in your very own field

like me saying
me without
citation, i opened up

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