“Space Scissors”
I walk through a land of broken teeth
pulled pullovers, snowy driveways
through broken bones
where every memory is chilled
and crammed in a locket round
the five o’clock shadow hordes
wringing my neck and number,
galloping with bright lights,
rose and red bouquets, princesses dying,
blue flowers pressed to lips,
spiders in hourglasses,
axes greeting spark plugs
greased hands, the witch’s lies
the ogre’s children
if only for human flesh boots
and blades for
ballerinas to dance knives on
while we fence in a moat drowned
in this your life
of your sweet heart of stone
seasoned with scissors, scalpels
and lashes for beehives too quick
behind the refrigerator
your body disappears.
nicholauspatnaude 