I started laughing
in the Kmart fitting room
and couldn’t
stop,
it was too damned funny,
that shirt and pants,
and see those shoes
trying to walk away
with that lady’s feet?
They ushered me
to the back,
gave me water and aspirin,
but I could feel
bras and girdles inside
my eyes,
and when I reached for the
stapler,
(stand back, everyone stand back)
they hurried off and called the cops.
Two men rolled me away
and stuck tubes
down
my throat, lights across my teeth,
I was flying,
colors swinging,
so beautiful,
I was partying with Jesus
at the Last Supper,
guzzling grape Kool-Aid and
eating Velveeta cheese, and when Jesus
caught me
wiping my nose on the tablecloth,
she just winked
and handed me a napkin
(Modess, for those trying times of the month),
soft,
so soft,
I was
falling
down
to see Oprah
my tongue fattened on
bars,
cars,
and oh Sweet Jesus, girl,
stars.
I woke two days later
on a ward filled with women
in a city I couldn’t remember visiting.
Beyond the mesh window, the sky was gray
and cloudy, my skin winter pale
when I pulled up my gown and examined
my belly, lonely and flat,
a bruise spreading my hip
like the bite of an angel.