Remembering my missus.

remembering my missus

  i live in my body
  milk and sweat in my nose
  i know, how whores smell
  in the morning
  and madonnas
  when awakening
  to the tides of their blood

  my brain is poaching
  other peoples' stories
  i know
  my missus thinks,
  she has been fertilized
  by his seed
  as it entered soundlessly
  into her womb
  the night before
  but one day
  the blond nape
  of a white missus
  lies on pillows of dark blood
  her skull smells
  of past stupidity

  the sun rages in my hair
  as i drill two toes of my dirty left foot
  into the ear of her unlikely story
  where she lies
  and sleeps on the edges
  of happiness and first love