February 23, 2007 at 10:01pm (Poetry)

Whisper this when you blow on knots:

               anaktam pastam paspasim

whistle it while walking past the grave yard

where the owl and the pussy cat set out to see

Athena in a beautiful pea green boat

      (and she, smeared with honey)

that the piggy-wig bought

for love and money

from the butcher

the baker

the candle stick maker

in another time, another place, another

                                                       two-cents plain, if you please


        step to the back of the bus, if you please;

make room, make room, if you please,

a highway for our God, if you please.

               (Again: Anaktam pastam paspasim)

Make room between the sheets,

between the dark and the daylight,

at the striking of the children’s hour,

when faces on the tick-tock glower

at Athena’s owl decapitating Hekat’s cat

like Itchy done in Scratchy with a baseball bat.

               (And yet again: Anaktam pastam paspasim)

Make room, make room

for goat and broom,

for eye of newt and tongue of toad,

and this dagger that I see before me,

its handle in my hand.

       Let me clutch thee, my beloved;

here, between the sheets,

in our beautiful pea green boat,

let me clutch thee

like a vision that I see before me,

let me clutch thee

in my hand.

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