4 psalms for lilith

 
cutie-pie kewpie
  
            in eden
  
            softly seamless
  
raw pink
  
            unfurrowed flesh gleaming
  
in the cool new sun 
  
naming
  
            the beasts each
  
name a tightly
  
            cinched & sequined leash
  
            she combs her
  
hair to listless silken flyaways
  
and lays claim
  
            to shed fangs and frayed
  
claws, armoring her defenseless
  
            flesh against its own
  
permeability. a sickle ‘cross her throat.
  
 
  
                        
  
adam lays his attenuate
  
paw across her narrow shoulders
  
and she wishes for calluses. she thinks
  
                                    of one day
  
a hanging lank & patterned fabric          of silk & satin
  
            upon a bent                  wire frame, her
  
 
  
 
  
belly distended and ripening
  
                        toward erupt
  
                                                -ion from
  
a too-familiar wound. the moon
  
                                    drools
  
its light down to limn
  
                                    her arc
  
            and she feels
  
            the heat
  
            of his eye
  
            upon once raw now
  
sun-baked
  
            skin.
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
once, that graceful crane, it lived
  
upon her wrist
  
            and wrote
  
            with bone
  
stylus upon its pimpled breast
  
            
  
(that men
  
                        would sink
  
            their teeth
  
                        into)
  
 
  
with ink, her children’s iron milk
  
                                                and spilled
  
brilliant dye, to attire her
  
            .her crimson-threaded vestment.
  
 
  
denuded of her quills, she needed thus
  
            what, with that asp entwined
  
            ‘round root and spine
  
of her home. her cave within that bole.
  
 
  
fangs deep sunk and drooling
  
                        fire. now root
  
                                    rot and roiling, contort-
  
            ed fingers clawing black
  
            
  
earth beside
  
            lake of sky
  
where she pours from
  
            eye & thigh
  
 
  
her child (and its
children) fled
  
            fledged to
  
            sky fear-
  
full and still
  
 
  
pouring iron out upon the fallow earth now.
  
salt sown.
  
dragonteeth.
  
to birth unfaithful children. 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
mother you were
  
nigh-
  
twind soughing
  
were
  
what might
  
            have been
  
what we
  
            end with.
  
 
  
you tore your house down
  
your tree pois(on)ed
  
            and fled
  
            unfathomable burden
  
to birth the mares
  
            of night
  
            maws foaming
  
            rolling eyes
  
hooves throwing
  
            fire
  
 
  
as the first 
  
            flailing beast
  
all sleekly gleaming muscle beneath
  
            mucus 
  
            kicks free from
  
            placental slick
  
you know some day another child
  
            will ride
  
that broad black back.
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
mother, your daughters
  
            are dancing
  
            beneath veils
  
full-body veils: the stiff lace
  
            & underwire
  
            of bra
  
diaphanous satin
  
            of panties
  
            billowing silk
  
blouse & skin
  
            tight blue –
  
            jeans, black
  
ankle-length robe &
  
            black all
  
            ways black
  
veil – and last –
  
            last that
  
            ever un-
  
seen one, the last
  
 
  
seven times they have tried
  
            to cast
  
            to dance
  
out from beneath
  
            only to have
  
            their heads
  
served up on a platter
  
            for distinguished
  
            Johns
  
 
  
that last, that glossy
  
            stock, that
  
            celluloid, that
  
billboard pulp
  
            & clothing
  
            store –
  
 
  
mother, your daughters
  
have danced so long
  
 
  
they weary, I know
  
of the dance, I know
  
 
  
because I too grow
  
tired of counting their steps
  
 
  
zu bird, catalogued 
  
            and taxanomied
  
your face grows long
  
                        bone beak become
  
            feline muzzle
  
silk soft and wet
  
            nose scenting
  
                        distant reek
  
of blood
  
            your bone
  
                        talons sunk
  
deep in her flesh
  
            you fled
  
                        growing her
  
cherubic pinions
  
            (once lion
  
                        now child
  
            of god)
  
            for her
  
your exodus undertaken
  
            to wastes of Edom
  
where all the demons of Semitic
  
            naturalism (screech
  
                        owl, hyena)
  
                        had taken re-
  
fuge to forge your
  
            new home, as countless
  
daughters have done, stepping
  
                        aside for new
  
                        mothers (they
  
                        are reading
  
                        Lolita in Tehran
  
mother mine how you would have loved
  
            her, American daughter
  
            in your Aramaic home)
  
 
  
to take
  
flight
  
and make a throne
  
for another mother
  
goddess lover daughter
  
wife
  
how you would
  
have o
  
how you
  
            wood.