Lifetime Achievement Award

Lifetime Achievement Award

Giving up the Earth

on her own terms,

she is a water-snake

reeling real reeling still,

an infinite projection of who

she wants to be.

She pulls at the wings

of the albatross,

and dreams of lilacs in June,

sinking down in baths

of babies-breath and curdled milk,

looking for the blood to well

where only blood would,

well?

And it's 1989 again

and its 1982,

and her hair is on fire again;

stretching her arms to meet love

at the bottom

of a very rocky road,

only to witness a Minister

baptizing a fool.

Her thoughts turn to mud

sitting in the hot sun,

sucking on bad marrow

and cheap cigarettes. 

She thinks the death of her

and wants it,

wants it like a drink of cold beer

or a kiss from a woman

with whiskey on her lips.

And she is nothing

turning the quickstep

kicking rocks down the road,

no longer wanting to ponder for

the sand and the salt and the wine.

As she lets the life

pour from her wrists.