wearing the planets on a chain
'I can't swing a cat without hitting
a faggot or a
sinner of some variety."
The birds inside my throat stayed silent
but I could feel
I turned my shoulders to July noon
as a favor
to such small, light riders.
A man of great learning,
alphabets lined up on the
tip of his tongue,
kept them all like pets
to balance prettily on a circus ball
while he went at them hammer and tongs
to no purpose.
Three times that season,
and fell to my
Finally, flocks flew filigree patterns
and a man said, "Harlot! Sapphist!"
and a man said, "Anarchist! Libertine!"
but I was an
beyond such puny mewlings.