Today's poem is by Susan Slaviero
Anatomy of the Grotesque
One cannot separate flesh from burn
this thing we call woman wilts under your tongue.
A steel-toothed gear as mouth concept,
as dirty allegory. Some designs triangulate
around well-dressed meat, porcelain gypsies,
undressed stomachs and celebrity cameos
in sci-fi flicks with nonlinear narratives
and Dutch angles; oddly-lit and dim-green
with magnetic gloom clouds and sizzling guns.
Pink-shellacked bodies, transparent segments
revealing miniature sparrow-lungs, flowering
kidneys wired to their lower ribs. They might
be spherical, pregnant with electric-blue babies
and superfluous hands wriggling in gel the color
of bloodless plasma. This is a beautiful horror.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Slaviero All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily!
Home Web Monthly Features About Verse Daily FAQs Submit to Verse Daily Publications Noted & Received Copyright © 2002-2010 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved