by Richard Carr
I can leap from any height
and land safely, as if the
planet
were a pile of leaves.
Suddenly incensed, I
scramble fast
on all fours. O the wicked heart!
My
jagged smile gleams
because I carry weapons in my teeth.
Because the leaves all blow away,
I fight for more. More life,
please.
This picking through bones and hair--
I
call it grooming. I eat fleas.
Come, my love. We have yet to
mate.