JOURNEYMAN
Going out
I pass the place where I gained reason
I pass the place where my stomach rumbled
I pass the pigeons
I pass the wonders
Going in
I pass the button that ends the world
I pass the sex object
I pass my mother�s womb,
as though she swallowed me
I pass all this nonsense
My nonsense is a machine
laid bare it won�t function
justly-as-if
a stomach had no teeth
or my mother swallowed me
when she was ripe
the apocalypse flowers:
�not fruit?�
what armor
isn�t for piercing?
--April 4, 2005
Poems 2006
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