Gifting to Myself 10-18-20

Gifting Myself by St.Orr

 

I'm gifting myself

the feathers of angels

feeling like gold dust

running through my hand

crumbling like sheets of gold leaf

now, in these amber days

Sweet autumn umber days

 

And during this 

neo-Pleistocene period

of Pandemic quiet--

I'm gifting myself

a magic Etch-a-Sketch

that draws every wrinkle, smile,

living sperm and dead cell

I sloughed off and rubbed onto

every boy I ever had,

every man I ever gave myself to freely

every animal I ever charged.

 

I'm gifting myself

a universal Aviator's License

so I can legally float straight up

beyond this matchstick tenement

beyond yellow towers-blocking-sun

Floating away with a Hawk's eye view

Bidding farewell

to the tiny speck below

And there I lived,

in a man-cave I outgrew.

 

And there I was,

a prisoner of strange men's texts

and phone calls. Sometimes I wore scruffy shorts,

a housework scarf on my head;

dancing with myself high up

on a Rapunzel-like roof,

and there a black hole like a dirty shadow

showed where the deck used to be.

There, my history was tangled in a money hungry daze later transmuting my energy

into a a lusting thirst for light.

 

Yes, I longed for the golden-brown

hair of boys who in passing,

ignored me.

Now, I can safely turn my eyes away,

the drama’s lost in the anticipation

of warm lava flows of chill-pill moments

moments in the sun;

catchin' rays, releasing rigidity,

mining my body's bald beauty

Nosferatu would be proud.

 

I'm gifting myself

brown age spots stuck like diamonds

in lazy, dreaming Autumn eyes.

 

 

I gift myself

brown age spots

stuck like diamonds

from my lazy, dreaming Autumn eyes

 

A QUEEN'S PANIC

Call the leather leopard doctor

For this naked gerbil

has lost his drive, 

and succumbed to

slow-motion, chill-pill

fly-right feelings

crawling up brown weeds

buzzing with mute laughter

Come queen!

You roof nigger with your air orgies,

your extinct animals, dinosaurs and dancing dream monsters

that do not subvert, they inspire in spite of.

Ages of Love 1

 

66 Trying viagra it was like a ticker-tape parade down Fifth Avenue that never happened.

9 Playing with guinea pigs whose fur felt like undulating rivers of butter and milk.

5 My Mother fed me spiders that burrowed in my gut and fed on me for years.

13 Unleashing the hungry ghost longing for wiry boy's six-packs, secretly screwing myself with  tubes, lost in fantasies of pepper-cum, burning holes in bodybuilder's thongs obsessed with what was hidden underneath.

14 Taping my innocence to a 33 inch turntable like a guinea pig wounding myself with darts of hate.

67 Loving the injections that gift me a pain-free shoulder visible through turquoise silk, flowing over the rapturous sepulcher of my body as another facet of divine me enters stage left, stops and stares at the twittering audience. Cross, DS, stands until it's quiet. House lights on to reveal nothing but sparrows seeking open windows.

68 Growing like a fine, strong, ancient tree, into a muscled, wooden Indian carved from cedar, this self of me, this pillar of strength and marshmallow, chocolate and bacon boy-man flesh. Proud, stitched together by clinging vines of poison ivy and lilac shade, covered in worn shells of carousel horses lying on sun-bleached shores, while cruising dragonflies passing remind me of magic that is. As I breathe, just breathe in absolute love.