before the blood of the lamb
there were sacrifices of rams
and the fat of rams
giving God
the joyous part of praise
today I diet
dream of german chocolate pie
and cradling a man’s face between
my hips
but I will not indulge
there will be no poetry for the
dead
no languishing of beautiful words
on things decayed
no meditation on flowery memoirs
wilted and stagnant
like
roses and water left in a vase
too long
I will hold my blood
I will breathe shallow until I
surface
but air is thick
with truth
and I tire of un-seeing the seen
I will hold my blood
swallowing last
of back-washed beliefs
I am alice
who will not run from queen of
hearts
because
she loves me
and I think I can
I think I can
I think I can
my heels hurt from clicking them
I walk slowly in traffic
if jenny craig had a ten most
wanted list
I’d be on it
today we sacrifice fat
starve it away
binge it back
fining profane belly jiggling
indulgence
we praise the icon of ego
proudly revere egyptian blood
while begging our pharoahs to
release us
and continuing confused in the
desert
loving you was swimming in the
sand
black belly buried in the dirt
bits of fat and flesh on the
altar
blood I could not hold
hope too heavy to endure
ribbons around my wrist
as faith folded inwards
is sharp
there will be no poetry
for brown blood
and flesh that forgets me
air is resurrection
redemption
and repentance
I am on a diet now
but occasionally I will cheat
