Casual, usual A face floats on its wavering stalk; Look at it talk, talk, talk. Watch it shimmer in the mirror 5 And dissolve, a tactless absence, a sore, Hole for soul, A nothing that wounds and wounds With its teeth, its tongue, gassy solvents That pick and ply til all's undone. 10 Look at it- loaded and goading, A sucking contusion, wary and scarlet Winking open only to eat And eat and eat. Watch how it swallows, grinding its stone molars 15 On a glass eye, a wooden heel, Whatever the survivor had found To replace itself with- a quick fix, A snatch of branches, sticky love, Any useable glue; 20 Anything at hand, at heart, anything That would do. The flaccid face bloats on its spoils. Bigger than mirrors, it floats its way out. Grandly, hatefully, 25 Empty of everything but plunder and hunger.
From the collection "The Soft Assault"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.