Long Before You Were an Artwork

As the blade of moon reveals itself

In the manner of a graceful whore

Gazelles come to feed on a few flowers

Stems like smooth spines 

Petals as several tongues

The lions and antelope

Standing upon their hind legs 

Walk towards the disco

For an evening of cocaine

and soft peaches, boiled

and skinned as an Indian. 

With glitter spilling out across

the dance hall like a concentrated

bundle of stars cut from their net. 

I vomited in the cinema the other day,

distracted for the rest of the film.

Thinking of starting a band,

and yelling over drums stretched

from the skin of the artist himself.

The ants were using one another

as ladders, bundling vertically

to the clump of bananas

hung over there in the brush,

slung indolent like a soft brain exposed.

So, go nimble my darling, my dear,

my vitals, my lake, my fear. 

For you are hungry,

and only the needles of the porcupine,

standing like magnetic fragments,

will sever the balloon, the bladder. 

I've tried everything else. 

And the sun slips into view once more,

like the head of infant crowning.