stiletto crow - poetry show

Church:

Built out of stone, it was groped into shape
by the congregation. Anger I sense in you, proof bone
Grand Cafe Jus. Approach love and cooking
with reckless abandon.

The word-dabble. My child modelled a woman
in the sand, his fingers sculpting nipples
the salt of stairs

We are alone, we mermaids.

I rolled a lion poster in a tube, blew my name
over sea spray, rejoiced my anime.
I rejoiced at non-urgency, anarchy's
ornate pagan cave.

Catherine. You you of all people, of all Autumn cottages
have kneaded, punched and pulled my hairs
into free directions and funky weakness.
Aided by white horses I am stronger
in the building-as-instrument's notes.