The Dead Woman Got Up

The dead woman got up--

Thank Goddess for hard rains and fingernails.

Those who would rise, give up black for blue,

Earth for sky.



The dead woman leant against a tree--

Its bark like the skin of a mummy-baby,

But her with no heart to be lured back with,

Exchanging love for leaves,

Mud,

And droppings.



She can lure no man,

Bear no child;

She doesn't care how clean your house is.

She hasn't got a thing to wear,

She has forgotten her own name,

She kisses the dogs who fight over her bones and names them--

Cerberus,

Anubis,

and Sugar.



The dead woman gets up--

Spends a week in the underbrush, falling apart,

Skin flaking away, blood turning thick and black.

Underneath,

A changeling, a hoodoo queen, neither virtuous nor innocent

Shines in the moonlight,

Smiles, starts walking,

Fearsome,

Careless,

Not really dead at all.

________