Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

The Assent

Yesterday, methodically, I opened up
a black trash bag
and emptied my life into the void of it
a grin thickening my lips.
I was as drunk on this carthasis
as a clown on laughs.

I won't powder my face, I won't
colour my mouth.
I won't shave my pussy, I won't
cut my hair.
I won't wear clothes.

I wear rope now. It is my colour.
It is my entire attire

and who needs makeup
when you hold my face?

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