42 Mirrors
By Lucien Quincy Senna
Mirror, mirror
tell me all,
Who I am
Who I was,
painted seagreen with vanity
or socketed modesty.
Pride and pain
my old pretenders.
I am full of dead men's bones,
their advance over me.
I trashed and trotted
other people's causes,
statecraft of the most
sinister skull-duggery.
Mirror, mirror
see me now,
my strawberry leaves
for I am no longer twenty-four.
Pinking the raw edge of silk,
trusting it all.
Then that Ramshackle Empire
came clattering for me
a penal code
institutions for troubled women
"Pull your bellies between your knees!" said the nurse.
The hours pass upon the eastern turn
my faith anew while I was interred there,
until I somersaulted
out of the deep waters.
An ocean greyhound
who was simply considered
a whited sepulchre.
A mask for women over forty.
Eye-socketed light bulb spirit window
Staring
Glint obsidian entering
Rolling reeling mind
Stop looking at me
Scraping nails skin warm sweat
Feeling
Lithe seduction pressing
Revealing ring thing
Stop dancing with me
And can I
Can I
Can I
Can I love you in these blues
Tones chord piano tongue Bose
Speaking
Metallic symphony driving
Maddening weeping strings
Stop listening to me
And will I
Will I
Will I
Will I love you in these blues
May I love you in these blues?
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