12 Poems Of Joy - II
II
So then i will suck on the silver spoon,lick the bottom of the bowl,
chew its rim,
gnaw the table too
till i get my teeth to snap like chalk -
like chalk, to break -
and i will gnash enough, and hard enough
to pulverize the last tooth of resistance,
till i come to the alveolar ridge.
Oh, and then, and only then,
will i be fit for suckling,
powerless at the full and generous
breast forever.
Labels: poetry