American sonnet for my past and future assassin We suppose Ms. Dickinson is by Terrance Hayes Lyrics
We suppose Ms. Dickinson is like the abandoned
Lover of Orpheus and too, that she loved to masturbate
Whispering lonely dark lullabies to Death.
Because Galway Kinnell writes of Saint Francis
Whose touch made a sow ecstatic, consider
How it would be to make every creature shudder
In orgasm. If you got one of your paws on a black-
Bird, you'd see the blackbird shift and shatter like
A vessel of ink. If you brushed the ear of a stranger,
Her jaw and eyes and fingers would clench on a dark
Blue feeling. If, like the bear in a deep image poem,
You got a paw on a fish in a river, you would feel
The fish convulse like the flesh flooded with blood
And the dark blue crush of touching yourself to Death.
Lover of Orpheus and too, that she loved to masturbate
Whispering lonely dark lullabies to Death.
Because Galway Kinnell writes of Saint Francis
Whose touch made a sow ecstatic, consider
How it would be to make every creature shudder
In orgasm. If you got one of your paws on a black-
Bird, you'd see the blackbird shift and shatter like
A vessel of ink. If you brushed the ear of a stranger,
Her jaw and eyes and fingers would clench on a dark
Blue feeling. If, like the bear in a deep image poem,
You got a paw on a fish in a river, you would feel
The fish convulse like the flesh flooded with blood
And the dark blue crush of touching yourself to Death.