Some of these things are always looking at me
I am ashamed before earth;
I am ashamed before heaven;
I am ashamed before dawn;
I am ashamed before twilight;
I am ashamed before blue sky;
I am ashamed before darkness;
I am ashamed before sun;
I am ashamed before that standing within me which speaks with me.
Some of these things are always looking at me.
I am never out of sight.
Therefore I must tell the truth.
I hold my word tight to my breast.
(Navajo chant. From Judith Savage, Mourning Unlived Lives. Quoted in Janet Spencer Robinson, “The Dark Feminine: Death in Childbirth and Entry into the Shamanic Realm”)
*taken from Monica Mody’s facebook wall.
My poem for the second day of April:
MARY AND MARY
Shame galvanized me the way nothing else.
When I see myself and feel shame it is a tiny part
of squatting before the endless eyeball of heaven
layers of crust my feet abandoned.
You push alligator clips inside me.
The metal tips touch my immaculate conception
I remember the days of burning.
Pleasurable peels white butter sheets
from my cheek surface.
I will die for my family
not because of shame.
Only shame will propel me to the depths of the ends of cavities
the ends of the deferens of dead teleology
over whom happily I will spread my steaming shameness.
I hope you don’t like me.
Because I am not juicy.
No designer shaped the capacity of my various dark sacs.
I am being watched
even when the eyes of the world have been burnt
on barbeque sticks in fact
that is when I am most retarded.
You agree with me
and I expose by being exposed.
The anonymous tip drips
from the reddening.