The Serpent, My Self

Inner dilemma of sentient beings
is a product of the needs
of the plurality of voices:
The needs of one Self
undermined by needs of another.

Starved (tibi, for you) in my soul
your eye and the “good times”,
joyful reminiscence of sunshine,
followed by bowling ball cloud of coughing dust
& early onset heart attack.

Selves inside this onyx shell,
shed skin of snakes,
transposed on one another, dueling,
until fullness and adaptation can settle.
Selves want to remember
you, fat cat whining for more kibble.

Why must you meddle
in my Forest, my possession?
What you do most often,
is how you are.
What you think most often,
is who you are.
New voices in my head every day,

Drink deep the waters of the paradigm shift.
Voices funnier than any comedian on T.V.,
Writing poetry in matrices,
Art produced using scientific method,
Science on a Potter’s wheel,
Religion is the Forest,
in tact (not chopped down,
carved into a cross by a carpenter).

Deny government, politics, movements, activism:
I’m swallowing down the dust,
vomiting my own fecundity,
back at them,
who believe I can’t be a woman or a Free Spirit
without it,
the Flag Almighty, legal strawman, & children pouring out of my argumentative cunt,
one after another, single file.

All tied to nothing real or True, in perspective,
but selfish motives of Humans.
Busy as bees, but less beneficial to the whole.
Take and rape,excuse our Selves
from the Elephant in the room who demands answers & change.

Mammary glands reject the malicious intent
of Supposedly Supernatural
Christians performing Cuniligus on Mother Mary.
Et benedíctus frúctus véntris túi: Third Eye, Right Tit, Failed Heart,
all the while I’ve got 2 fingers sliding inside feeling the fleshy and flaky Self.

March-May 2009