Heart cuckoo God
we feed him our worms and he grows
monstrous -- false thing, God
of the parasite wasps. I think I made you.
I think I spun you
-- my whirligig mind.
It is possible.
I admit it is at least
possible.
The world is thick
as tent caterpillars. For anything you like,
there's evidence. The world is beautiful.
The world is monstrous.
Pain takes me
with an axe to the head.
I cry out and
like a lover it
takes me again. If I beg
what answers? Heart's cuckoo,
I think I made you.
I think I coaxed and called you
and you twined round my shins
like a stray.
