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 Incarnations

pitching down bales
I uncover a snake
adrenaline flutters
choked in my throat
the uncle went for a gun &
said it would writhe till sundown

now I wash dishes
& look in the cupboard to
see my son’s boa constrictor
feathering an elegant tongue
watching my motions

I think about gold chains
on men’s chests &
about the houseplants I grow
wondering how many skins
are left to shed

               

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                                                               03.05.05