Dorchester

Leap then look diehard
          unrumpled

twisted licorice village chastity

I wouldn't be walking unless
     I fell first

Admit it.  You are territorial
     of your falling-space.
Take it. Keep it.  Bring it here.

The medicine is in three parts
now, and each is guarded
by your mother's best friend
the birdkeeper
the bookkeeper
the beekeeper

Wear something to protect
     yourself and your loved ones
     or love objects.

Love objects to lock and flee.
This is not about the grey
bird of sadness, the taboo
tattoo, the whale-road, the
birth of rock and roll or
when electricity came
to Teresopolis, Brasil.

The medicines cure
love v. the alphabet.

Stitch them into your hem,
hold them under your tongue
     until you disappear
Spin three times and
     squeeze the tail—

Draw their molecular
     structure with a pencil
     held between your teeth
duodecahedron, triskelion
arterial fanbelt layout.

Eighteen arms: enough to
     wave with.
One thousand minus one
     heads, enough to
attain thoughtlessness.
     Twenty-seven skulls
around the neck: one
for every letter and one
skull full of gnostic blood in a raised palm.  
From what creature was the blood spilt?

Drink up. Dance. Shake
violently.  Choose your poisons
     well.  To heal, say it
like you mean it.

*

3:33  The lucky hour/ when nobody's home