Saturday, August 15, 2009

Stitches

I sliced the torso with a razor
& pinched the heart to see
if it would flap like a fish
& cut my wrist with its scales.
The bird fell from the sky.
Let me be clear:
The bird. It fell from the sky.
& I was the first to discover
it there. I happened to have
a razor because I was told
I should shave. Instead, I
sliced the torso & sniffed.
It smelled like a fish.
A bird smells like a fish.
& I was relieved because
I had long thought it true.
I said to them, listen.
Let me be clear:
The scales will slice my
wrist, that’s why I want gloves
you fucking asshole hicks.
It’s not that I am a girl.
I am not.
It’s just that,
do you want me to smell
like that? I will smell
like a fish. & you wonder,
you wonder why I shave?
Do fish shave? Do birds?
Do birds shave? Answer me.
Answer me, you hick fuck.
What do you have
to say, now? Here.
Here it is.
It fell from the sky.


-Lucas Farrell