"The Night has Seventeen Eyes"
"If ever if still I were clever enough I would tell you I would tell you why. I would label all our numbers and give them meaning."
17
hangs alone in space
wondering what it will become:
orange slices, degrees Kelvin,
meters per second squared?
I hang there too
wondering what is the unit of I?
Anna.
Anna what? Trochaic dimeter or spondee
doesn't matter.
Anna of Wemberly
Anna daughter of Saul
Anna with the ringlet curls
Anna scissor kick side swimmer.
How to count a girl by seventeen.
Years. Lovers. Thanksgiving turkeys
under aluminum tents.
Needle sticks.
I forget how to make your cock hard from such a distance.
How to make you sing my stories. Scroll my seas.
My skin, peeled. My flesh, sectioned.
My seeds, removed and set aside.
I sit in little boats, drying on your plate.
© 2009 Jennifer VanBuren
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