Her legs were her best feature
so they told her
pinching her bum as she climbed shag carpeted stairs
hauling more baggage than they’d ever have
oh and your throat of course
chuckle, chuckle isn’t that funny?
deep throat, get it?
no … not really
too polite to declare (curtsy)
but what if you did? Respond as you would if
truth led you by the mouth, clip, clop
neigh brey shake your tail paw the ground with hoof
sore and gaping and verbose in mauve and yellow
like a gypsy sacked from her tent
runs like a red brand through black and white trees
will she end up raped by the side of the road?
eventually selling herself by the truck-load
with eyes glazed over from too many mouthfuls
there’s only so much you can take
a tipping point lives inside everyone
like a secret metronome
ticking away, ticking down, ticking sideways, an itch never relieved
until earth and sod and mud and weeds land heavy and wet
on wood (four coffin bearers, bow their heads)
she hears them making a fuss downstairs
(the sound track is The Moody Blues)
who will go first?
me! first is best! the little one says
he’s got a big mouth that one and a small …
well no surprise there (audience laugh)
yeah but you can warm her up for me!
the one who enjoys pain reveals
when do I get a turn? says the last one
who is always too fast too soon too distracted to …
see her staring at the ceiling counting down
tick toc tick toc goes her life blood
here the vein here the slice here the fall
blue is the marigold dipped in the ocean
why does she bled so? When did she stop being closed?
She was never really shut, she was open all hours
flung wide by the longing of the sky to see her enact a star
spread white and glowing she longed for black skies to swallow whole
every last molecule
there’s blood in the bathroom! they all cry (exit stage left)
where could she have gone?
how did she survive the loss of so much blood? The little one said
roll over roll over so they all rolled over and one fell out
there were two in the bed and the next one said …
you see her now
she’s that motion in the corner of your eye, a cataract in full bloom
dropping by the highway like a midnight flower
speeding cars track her fade but they cannot see for their faces are made
of metal and plastic and rubber and gasoline
and she is made of earth
and she is gone to earth
and she is in the earth
away from the three little pigs
who kindle themselves into a fury
and burn their house
down though it is made
of brick