Self Beat Portrait

I am the reckless Queen of Cauldrons
My hair the color of just another sea
Which is the color of an iguana’s tail
While it drowns the lacy winter moon.

I have spoken the ancient willow chant.
Plucking the frosty teeth from an angel
By birthing with heat a gray generation
Of souls fired by the light of the stars.

I have angered the mighty pleasure god
Ripped the bleeding heart from his chest
While shouting aloud through the trinity
Of cannabinoids, benzos, and booze.

I’ve longed for the most astonishing taste
While licking salt from icy concrete.
Biscuits and gravy and pencil shavings, maybe
Asking only for mercy, reverence, and chai.

I have frequently left this planet and plane.
Traveled with ignoble speed beyond thought
Beyond grace, then, to return with a crash like
Trash face first in a warm denim crotch.

I have swept clean the pantry of pulchritude
Beating the drum of all sisterhood firm.
Blackbird’s discord notwithstanding here,
ZOOM! Hit right between the sweet Jesus eyes.

I am velvet and thistles and ink and release
From the meeting of red sky and wind
Pinching shut my grape seed lips
Listening for the band to begin.

I am the zesty Queen of Cauldrons
My hair the color of just another sea
Which is the color of an iguana’s tail
While it drowns the lacy winter moon.