CARLEEN TIBBETTS

 

                                     



NAKED & WITHOUT THEORY


in my breakage, i was all larvaeheaded           
naked & without theory
           
i thumbprinted my forehead like it was Lent & laughed
in the face of a man who licked my teeth
           
i stood there thinking endtimey things,
the smell of hair burning nearby

i generated a whole new set of eyes
& a new mouth singing contagion
                       
who needs a face
when you have a darkable network ruined in such intervals

what is the word for going wrong in /on a person
or something like one

all those sorrytrashed feelings
i called them clarity & threw them to the street

if you leave the light on,
the moths will come

woman is the delinquency of all unfilled spaces
is a rose falling into absence

is a rose
is a rose

 

 

                                                                                                      

 

      

 

                                   

 

 


TYPO 23