National Poetry Month 2021

In the withering womb of a woman whose name translates to “white light,” 

the Velvet Underground sings from the hem of feral skirts,

Aww sputter mutter everybody gonna go kill their mother
Hmm hmm, White light
…”

I cling to the heartstrings mangled in my own filth, 

avowed in that glorious milk— 

these warm wounds

she imbued me with will feed the dogs. 

White light, White light goin’ messin’ up my mind
White light, and don’t you know its gonna make me go blind
…”

Like Christ, I am born in the bosom of a noxious night,

I silence the dead with a sadist inclination, 

I carry the dead draped desperate on my disposition

White light, White light moved in me through my brain
White light, White light goin’ makin’ you go insane
…”

I smell acerbic kindness from animalia, a shoulder

I can cry on when towers collapse

Teats two, 

inguinal,

a break for good luck, sleeping echoes of boys

hiss and panic

White light, Aww white light, it lighten up my eyes
White light, don’t you know it fills me up with surprise…”

manger births secrete molasses and excrement, 

a holy baby should be made out of wood

it should provide its own crib, 

I suckle at this white light, hotly

now every single body 

will see me coming

White light, Aww white heat tickle me down to my toes
White light, Aww white light I tell you now goodness knows, now work it
…”