Friday, April 30, 2010

Pope Pius V (patron of Valletta, Malta)

I’m always lurching towards the next

big thing, with eyes like doorknobs

and a mouth like a neat pink ribbon.

I dream that I’m fainting, falling

to the hardwood floor. The ocean spills

out of my mouth and my limbs go numb.

I reach out to the orange coils on the stove,

retreat. Repeat. Water raises up to the surface

of my skin and I let it out with a pin.

I am a well. I keep tiny smokestacks

in a gold coinpurse. I light them

when I think I’m almost there.

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