Where’d My Uterus Go?

 

 

 

Detroit, perhaps, in solidarity

with all those lingering falling down

factories, that sad used up city,

and of course Michael Moore

is there, patron of welfare mothers and Flint. Michael, Michael Moore,

like an angry maternal deity

persistently knocking

at the gate of the still-born nation, the Corporation,

his heroic face in the window, his sincere heart fat

with is own secret hoard

of uninterviewed, uncatechized

complicities.

 

Or how about, even weirder, that scary

Himalayan monster, K2. K2,

most lonely and difficult mountain, that’s where my daydreaming

and disobedient emptiness went. A place too remote, too airless

to warrant even a normally

lyrical name, just a number and a letter, points on a map

relative to other

points on a map. 

 

Or maybe Mount Everest, Mount Everest yes.

Popular, even trashy,

though that infamous upper wind forever sheers

a little off the top, a bit of delusional snow always lifting

like thoughts striking out for Thailand or Hawaii

or anyplace sane, meaning warm,

but probably in fact getting nowhere, dissolving at once in the dangerous heights,

yet launching forth anyway, always just stepping free

of the ground.  

 

That’s enough, don't you think?

Because we resign. We give up. We only ask that life

be intense, even lethal, in its instant.