Done

 

Done

.

I am done

with the breaststroke of infernal lies.

I am done with the twitching eyes,

people without boundaries – hard things

like crossing graveyards, hesitating

intimacy. I am done with money.

I am through with platforms and curls,

with the forceful devil and things that make me feel

unsure. I see the spring

and it is waiting to throw me

a rose. I see things, and I am done with

the loins of the zodiac, through with eastern gods

and western hopes. This is me, standing empty –

fields on either side. Drown me in this solitude.

Take my blood and make me

a monastery.

.

.

Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Far Enough East – Issue Six”, September 2014

 

 

Thirst

 

Thirst

.

Mapping out oblivion, putting

lines where there are no lines. Like the small moths

that live all year in my closet, nibbling at clothes

I forget to wear,

making a feast with what has been discarded –

I feel connection, but only at one end,

like cutting eyelids

out of clay: Finger-made eyes that cannot see,

cannot approach my trembling body, gaze over it

and crack the distance.

 

Entering this thirst like entering a church,

climbing wide stone steps,

being bombarded with that floral, incense smell, or

like warring with a round whitish eucharist wafer,

stuck to the roof of my mouth.

There is no garment to keep me warm,

no thistle to swallow, scarring

all the way down. There is only the afterbirth of this thirst,

void of the fattened wail, shadow, the kind

the TV traps in its frame.

 

How am I to dissipate this growing, encroaching wave, rest

like before, when my mouth was not so dry, rest

on a raft, my head leaning over, under seawater,

conversing calmly and feeling one with

schools of curious but contented swimmers?

.

.

.Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

3021

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Wax Poetry and Art Magazine, Volume 3, Number 5”