Writer's Taunt

[Carrie Birdsong]

Writer's Taunt

If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh,

And yanked out the heart from my chest,
To show you the still wonder of it;
Would you turn from me disgusted?

And as dark blood pumps thickly,
Spilling black splashes under shaded moonlight,
Unleashing the horrors that lurk in my very veins;
Would you gag on the realities that squirm there?

In the clotted patterns of my stagnant fluids,
Put on display on the cold gravel,
Your feet are cemented to;
Would you see how the white, pale moon,
Fractures into a galaxy of tiny stars,
As it reflects from the rounded beads of spatter?

Do you see beauty love?
Beauty in the dark recesses of incessant alleys,
Where monsters stalk the sick and weary,
And the mysterious low eyes,
That reflect bawdy neon,
Watching for the same lost,
Who wander here seeking to be found in faded dreams?

Follow me there,
Take my red-gloved hand,
And mind my falling insides,
Step around the gore in your clean shoes,
And I will show you a wonder.