I pick up the skirt
I pick up the sparkling beads in black
This thing that moved once around flesh
And I call God a liar
I say anything that moved like that
Or knew my name
Could never die
In the common verity of dying, And I pick
Up her lovely dress
All her loveliness gone
And I speak to all the gods
Jewish gods, Christ-gods
Chips of blinking things
Idols, pills, bread, Fathoms, risks
Knowledgeable surrender
Rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad
Without a chance
Hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance
I lean upon this, I lean on all of this
And I know her dress upon my arm
But they will not
Give her back to me