I dream in terms of

I dream in terms of

london broil trembling from the paprika flush,
turmeric walloping bone sides, soaking in a ruddy pan, and diced
charred peppers placed in paper
bags to let the skin slough,
black olives barnacled on every knuckle, brine sucked
down, carrot and curry relish,
sliced squash, little rings like inverse egg yolks,
butternut squash, cubed with tooth marks
all little trails towards

raw potato crunching
strong white teeth in strong white potato flesh
yellow onions crunched through, all the strong flesh foods
the strong flesh foods with skins
papery skins bending against the tooth points

the sour soups and cumin smacked pork chops are too
sweet and subtle, the cilantro twang in my
sleep-moaning voice calls for the toughest

rustic unwashed chicken thighs spiced in juniper,
bitter hot oil simmering and spitting,
rubbing my teeth incessantly against the banisters
gnawing on the spice tang of table legs, toothing away
the splintering wood, the sogging wood slivers
in search of

the raw foods, the salty slide of eggshells
the snap of lamb racks heaving under rosemary,
my acidic shallow breathing calls for
the raw foods, for
in my dream I am also raw

Exam Room

Exam Room

SURGICAL LUBE             BRUSH/APPLICATORS
                                             CULTURES
                                             SCISSORS                      STERILE GLOVES
EMB SET                                 MINOR SET
FORMALIN                       RING FORC
                                            EXTRA SUPPLIES
STERILE GLOVES            PIPETTES                      POVIDONE/IODONE
                                           CERV DILATOR


San Francisco is a tumble of lines and arches
the sky is so big outside
                                                           CERV DILATOR
                                                           makes my throat close up
                              “I try not to think about how many people have seen what’s between my legs,” I said
over the sound of scissors.
                                             interns and surgeons                               STERILE GLOVES

                                             it was like trimming
                                             fat from a chicken breast
                                             a little cut of bumpy skin
                                             and lemon: a curved rind landing on the floor
                                                            “seventy to eighty percent reduction in pain”
it is the U-shaped scar, the points of which are still pricking; it is the pockmark
where the inside got pulled outside; it is

                              got so closed up

Acrotomophilia

Acrotomophilia

I sewed closed
the arms of his sweaters,
cooked oatmeal by the barrel.
We were there because he
smelled like pine needles, the sap
of felled trees, when
I slept in the space of where his arms were
it was of birds in a pine forest,
needle browned swamp,
dry feathers and
nude birds, bumped breasts lolling
over ribcages, wingless,
in the pine needles
and feathers mixed.

With no legs
the buttocks curved like a knucklebone,
when we lay together my thighs
fit into the slots under his ribs.
When I held the stumped end bone I was
his forearm and my thoughts
his fingers and wingtips.

The empty space I fell in
could never fully capture. It was
a wingless bird cage, with no legs
he couldn't run from me, with no wings
in the pine needles
we were flightless, with no thoughts,
featherless
fearless
less there.