The Chic and the Dead
Rocks that block the mouths of tombs
Give sermons of great gravity
On the benefits of dumping wombs
To save the giants of the sea.
Procrustes breaks the limbs of Christ
To fit Him in His resting place;
“Fins and tails are underpriced
Big bellies will not save our race.
There is no room on earth for us
Who spoil it for those coming after,
Send babies off without a fuss.”
(To the sound of God’s and whales’ deep laughter.)
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The clean oblation of the harvest moon…
By Dürer’s hand, I saw her kneeling down
Before the Emperor: Roswitha — she
Butterfly, who taught you
Your exotic dance?
Who made your wings melodious?