acrylic on paper. 2013. 40 x 25 inches.

If I lie about
Will I grow a boat?
And will the boat sway
If I have my way
And could it be rowed
Even as I remain rooted?
Do I have to be in order
All the time?
Or can order be swept aside
While I make love
And while I cry
And while my nerves 
Become fireflies
If I want to cry, I will
If I want to thunder, 
I will clap,
If I was to lie
About all things flat
Will I grow an ogre
Underneath my fat?
But look, I say
I lie here and I am love’s spotted end,
I am embryo and I am here
And I will birth on this bed
An egg; for an egg can crack
And be a thousand things instead.
For a bed
Is where birth happens.

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