Fat Sally

Claustrophobia

the rattle of the yak bone chimes 12 o'clock in the evening 

the castafiore (the chaste flower) blooms upon the hour 

knee deep in a hurricane with red eyes off yonder somewhere 

to the east and the pleasures of a simulated empire 

and she trudges through the spice fields and universal aids 

marking her territory with musk and perfume from scent glands that sleep between her legs that are castoffs of bamboo temples in a jungle near saigon 

she tightrope walks on stilts made of ivory fastened with gold 

stripped from the tusks of mastodons that raped women in universal nightmares - cocks posable and deadly as the russel viper - moist 

minutes shrink by hasted by coca leaves and magic mushrooms 

spirals of colour tangle together before the eyes of mysterious union 

she hallucinates and her visions are the work of some dark poison 

fathers of time study her body and tell the world how to grow 

and over the stroke of the dawn the heart palpitations of the devote stop 

they dissolve into wet green grass that stains her thighs the same 

when she goes home her rump will be covered in dirt and she will have lost her panties and some plants and animals will have pollinated her and left 

saplings to prey upon her body, making succulent fruits develop inside 

then when arms and legs sprout like the heads of eyes on a potato 

and some merciless drum howls from a stone dais reading the sun 

nurturing the small facts of life that have no sense of smell 

but know that the time is ripe and the leaves are turning gold to brown 

then the fear of enclosed spaces unsheathes itself like a phallus 

where the pink head of embarrassment cleaves young people in two 

there shall be imprints left on the soft flesh of internal walls 

purple stains tattooing the empty sides of pickled limbs 

sometime a light will seizure into existence 

extinguishing everything else 

there will be a smack of tears 

a horrible cry 

and some cessation of the fear 

that none of us can remember 

and clastafiore shall be chaste no more 

as the time becomes one o'clock