PLACENTA

Here comes the hero.
Stout and lame.
Crippled
Narcissus shambles
to the edge
of the mucky pool.
He made it.
Our hunchback made it
to the watershed.
Not a mirror in sight.
He throws:
his arm of silicon and steel,
a life size snapshot of his chest,
the plaster cast of his eyelashes.
Ear wax, mucus and toe dirt
splash
in the tacky mix
as well.
He made it.
Armless and lame.
Mythical dog bites his heel.
Stout, knackered,
his vomit
reaches the depths
of this pond
of flesh
where he yearns to return.
Breathless and tearless
asks God to play
the remote control
again
and tie what was untied.
So he can cry
again,
umbilical and clothed
in viscous blood.
He prays
to be rewound
to be gulped down
again
by the mouth
of this womb;
by heaven.

© E. Sarezale, 2000
sarezale@yahoo.com
www.geocities.com/sarezale/