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Getting ready for bed.

I went naked meaning I was ready to take a look at things. I set a Bible, scalding with laws, on top of the dresser, then a mirror face down on top of it. (The subaltern perhaps. The ego but with claws and history as well.)

The Bible and the mirror began merging immediately. History went right through the glass into the face and the hair dripping with customs, the ears carrying the soil of destiny.

The face an art work imbued with journey. How fat birds landed on the lawn and this was breakfast.

I wanted the seepages to stop for this was process and where it would go is untold. But then the animal and the house began as well a victor's merging, sex getting it right in the bathroom, hunger spreading her Pluck all over the kitchen, the living room wallpapered in demur, my wife and her lover whispering, the judger in lust with the betrayer, the other gaining the other, sex with the self all soddened and into a stranger.

So I took the knife of my flesh and plunged it in between my mother and father, cutting the one into the two and in this way giving birth to myself whether I liked it or not.

After this gushing began to happen with children rolling out of my driveway with anger but not in a sexual way then belonging to art.

By this time the days were coming fast and what little of myself was outside began to grow into an acceptance of more. I decided to let dread come down in a shower, yes up to my ankles and ball-cock and eye-barge in dread, and yes pumped in the blood and what would become of us?
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Author:Grummer, Greg
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:Mar 1, 1993
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