Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Friday, December 2, 2022

A Man


A man of some note,
wearing the planets on a chain
'I can't swing a cat without hitting
a faggot or a 
or a
sinner of some variety."

The birds inside my throat stayed silent
but I could feel
their wings
I turned my shoulders to July noon
as a favor
to such small, light riders. 

A man of great learning,
with entire
alphabets lined up on the 
tip of his tongue,
kept them all like pets
and taught
each one
to balance prettily on a circus ball
while he went at them hammer and tongs
to no purpose.

Three times that season,
my eyes
became eggs
and fell to my 
Finally, flocks flew filigree patterns
all around 
my head
and a man said, "Harlot! Sapphist!"
and a man said, "Anarchist! Libertine!"
but I was an 
beyond such puny mewlings.


  1. Wow. Just wow. And we will gladly take "bargin bin Crane" any day, LOL! "Three times that season, / my eyes / became eggs / and fell to my / throat/ / nest." Amazing. Then the birth of those fledglings into words, flight. And you were an aviary... wow.

  2. "The birds inside my throat stayed silent but I could feel their wings flutter." What an awesome response to the words in the first stanza, for I felt something the same as I read them and contemplated how many humans hold such horrible darkness and dont mind spreading it. The alphabets like pets - well, the entire poem - is one only you could write. Amazing.

  3. STUNNING. So stunning. Sometimes you encapsulate such nuggets of power and beauty and this poem has them. The whole of the last stanza especially is pure *kisses fingers* from start to finish.

  4. The imagery in this poem is perfection my friend! This is why I am certain you will end up in the school books of famous poets one day. I love the way you have made me envision both silence and words here. Your poetry is a scream that lands on the ears and the heart as a gorgeous sigh.

  5. Behold the contrast between patriarchy and matriarchy, the one with its moral trinkets and circus bestiary, and the other its nested songs and creative births. An unsettling diatribe. Brilliant poetry.


Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?