Inspired (and partly imagined) by an evening.
A ring around the rosy mash
of flesh I catch in a cage – he gives me
the key, forget the key, forget everything
and teach me to follow your fingers.
A noose around carotid arms
that stretch to beg for air – he tells me
the key, sir, is not choking the chicken
but roughing the rooster against the sky.
A pop of nitrite up the nose
and flesh subconscious fall – he calls me
the key, the grooves against his sides
move Gods and giggles and give me mores -
A more I want to give him, ground him,
grasp him, make him gull – he caws for
the key, claws me like Graymalkin
mewing for mother for sin, for pain.
A no I wrestle from wrists bound,
up and downs, bursting sounds – he howls for
the key - unlock, the cock set free, the clock
stopped, uncoupling his cogs and springs.
A hand upon mine, heaving for breath,
hawk-like talons turned tender chicks - he takes
the key away from keep, and leaves me
liver-ate and nevermore – a solo open door.