#umbilicus

Umbilicus (Urza's Saga) - Dermot Power

Off that landspit of stony mouth-plugs, Eyes rolled by white sticks, Ears cupping the sea's incoherences, You house your unnerving head—God-ball, Lens of mercies, Your stooges Plying their wild cells in my keel's shadow, Pushing by like hearts, Red stigmata at the very center, Riding the rip tide to the nearest point of departure,

Dragging their Jesus hair. Did I escape, I wonder? My mind winds to you Old barnacled umbilicus, Atlantic cable, Keeping itself, it seems, in a state of miraculous repair.

In any case, you are always there, Tremulous breath at the end of my line, Curve of water upleaping To my water rod, dazzling and grateful, Touching and sucking. I didn't call you. I didn't call you at all. Nevertheless, nevertheless You steamed to me over the sea, Fat and red, a placenta

Paralyzing the kicking lovers. Cobra light Squeezing the breath from the blood bells Of the fuchsia. I could draw no breath, Dead and moneyless,

Overexposed, like an X-ray. Who do you think you are? A Communion wafer? Blubbery Mary? I shall take no bite of your body, Bottle in which I live,

Ghastly Vatican. I am sick to death of hot salt. Green as eunuchs, your wishes Hiss at my sins. Off, off, eely tentacle! There is nothing between us.

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Medusa

Sylvia Plath 1932-1963

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leave the door open,

“intentionally bad”

intentionally drafted, drafty home

leave it ugly and perfect

as is, let the skyline write itself.

Let the bones grow out into their own

tortoise shell shape, mispell the words,

let a membrane separate string-clouds in ache, veins simmering

marigold stew on the back burners, a

chrysanthemum bloom in each ear,

what color today, love?

a ring where

the umbilicus touches the earth when we

lay to watch this single ant carry the world on her own, all on her own,

in a line like all the others

also watching, also carrying, a

Fetal circulation.  The development of the human body. 1907.