the lie: after her beating
Not a drop of blood falls, there isn’t a sign that each bird
had two wings once that carried
loving hearts from this place here to that place over there...
Now that place doesn’t exist any more.
Like something lost in a dream. God’s word has cut off a wing
and He has sealed the place of cutting.
Uri Zvi Greenberg
“Amputation of the Wing”
stepping in
it wasn’t
the smell
of brimstone hell, that’s
become cliché
hell I’d never’ve
known what it was
so, I don’t
know, so
coagulated, so
practically
fragrant so
slippery but
I’d never
been to a
killing floor
before
never
thought lambs
came in
in coats like
me
in shoes
like me
and socks.
Talk stopped.
It was talk
like that,
that was
her mallet
down on
my skull
her lie, how
coming off
surgery
she’d eased
her way
into back-
stage
the way
a rapist
at the drapes
takes the
velvet
to his
face the way
it folds
along the
throat
choked
hold
her lie didn’t
even grope
didn’t need
me at all
see
Once she
framed
the house
then broke
every glass
pane
walking
through
to her
cut like
kite strings,
like
the end
of believing,
like truth fled
the room
with her
head
in her hands
like her
spleen, in
some dish some
soup to be
incinerated
when the fire’s
got up
beneath us
quick as that
sulfur
when getting
away with
it, the fire
I mean,
right?
the fire
is hell’s
light and by
this time
I’m burned
loose by it
blistering
coming on
so come on
let’s settle
this, let’s get
this up, here’s
how it came
out: she
said
I said
(I never
but
whatever)
a man
and his
son
came in
and took
and beat
her
(exact
words)
beat
the piss
out
of
her
and that
man
that
son
was
(she said
I said)
it was
our
father
and
brother
and that
was enough
of a lie
to bind
the rest
of this
life
with her
with my mother
me a Samson
shaved
my sister
a Delilah
holding
the blade
and some
whiff
of blood
slippery
at first
to step on
to manage
getting
up and
out
and build a life
after she, my mother
said you are
dead to me
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