Tracy Holton



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 manís 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


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



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

Iíd be on it


today we sacrifice fat

starve it away

binge it back

fining profane belly jiggling


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


and repentance


I am on a diet now

but occasionally I will cheat

Copyright © 2003 Tracy Holton.  All Rights Reserved.

Back Home Next