the other side of thinking
i stumbled into something blinding
i wanted to take a pen to paper
but couldn’t lift my arm
i sat there basked in stark
stapled like a beetle to a board

in india heading north
up into the high up hills
this comes through the radio:
Silence is the Language of God
All Else is Poor Translation.
it’s true
but I am in love with words
black marks carving up white
him moving inside her
love-cries echoing in empty
human screaming inside god

i am the bread and
i am the baker
the one who takes it from the oven, priceless in the morning
i am the air through which the flour fresh ground
float flees
i am white dust dreaming
i am she who stands in line
head bursting with lists and songs and
fragments
the one attempting to sew a coherence
out of straw
i am straw and
i am the sugar inside it
i am the she which has forgotten
her own name
i am that one standing in line at the overpriced
artisanal sourdough bread shop
which recently opened up in town
hair all tangly at the back
(i am all tangly at the back)
i am the one saying two of those please and pointing
to the little cakes with pink icing.
i am you

every thing i do
every mark this hand makes
every shape line dot
it’s for her
i have one eye on the page
the other it’s on her:
she’s barefoot in the puddles
splashylaughing
kicking up the emptiness

there’s this goddess i know
goes about all bra hanging out
hooks and eyes wild
her face the face of everyone
i have ever known
she is so close
Mother i call her
Sister i call her
i call her Kali Ma
her eyes look love
and her eyes look love
and then they don’t
whirling on a sandal
she is a pint size fury with a belly like a watermelon
smashes puppets up against the wall
flicks her hair incites a riot
she is the blood drinking screaming queen of the dance
she is the alpha and the omega
she is the everything and the nothing.
one time when she forgot to put on knickers
and sat down crosslegged opposite
i was blinded:
and for a nano (heartattack-exquisite)
i remembered:
i could remember everything i had ever forgotten.

Stop
Trying
To
Fit
In