an old woman’s face
is kohlrabi; her piss
washes the world
with holy water;
her spit blankets
itself with the dust
of our country.
Atop the snake
of her bent back
a head is perched;
when she’s glad
her coccyx wiggles.
Her skull cap
was blown off
by a heart thief,
until after a while
she took things
into her hands
and loved earth
more than men.
Laughter and smiles
carry the aura
of her people. She
says that loving
sometimes returns,
at the very end.

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Canopic Publishing 2016