Wicked Alice
Poetry Journal
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Sundress Publications
Every Man Is Listening

Elizabeth P. Glixman

I am wearing pearls for you
Under our bed
You cannot see the whiteness
I am wearing pearls to frighten
Demons and beaters
To align myself with Mars
Courageous and enduring
No weapons
No sting is in these words
Under the springs that sway as you sleep

I dance around the sun
The moon is quiet
Dust storms ripple the contours
My face poked marked for years
Dam mascara drips ink around the nostrils
I can’t see to put it on
Phobos and Deimos
Fear and terror my satellites
Mean men no harm
I am not of war as the nurses say
And you thought before you closed your eyes
With shield and spear
I am active energy
Raw reaching out for your
sleeping puffs of air

Sentient numbers fly from my lips
They multiple into days years
secluded centuries half man
half woman halved cerebellum
Square roots walk on wetland
mushrooms grow in their decay
Quantification is the piercing voice
I count the dead the babies
The lizards in the sand every comet
that swerves toward earth is documented
Filed in cabinets with swiveling hips
In history books where Caligula rules
It is happening fast

Chaotic and vibrant blackened suede creamy
My golden threads fall into your arms
My nails are death cells
My breath is bleach
I am disappearing
It is happening faster
than the speed of everything

Every man knows demolition
The demise of muscle and hair follicles
Fluids dry and blow
Cellular tumble weed
parched with thirst
Woman know the seismic event
They have ovaries that hold tight
Fists clenched with memories of creation

I hear myself say
I will be your joy stick
We can ride space
crash like cymbals
My ripeness is booming
Forever I believe
I have black blinders on emerald eyes
Next to your top hat and tails
Your thoughts stretched on wire
And swells of sky where angels float
I am your wide legged and moist dreamscape
Categorize my flora and fauna
Against concrete and wood in your hand

I am a virgin in the temple of joy
A geisha girl in the land of the sun
My hair shines in its spaciousness
You see red planets in the sky
The Parthenon crumbles
Planes hit the Pentagon
Bridges fall

They are not my Mars
Marie Antoinette offers you cake
Martin Luther King speaks of dreams
You sew yourself together
roughly leaving open spaced seams
as your mother calls

It is 1951
I am born
It is 1830 you have died
It is all the same this time around
Hear your mother’s bones call
Surrender there is nothing else to do
Time ticks like the hum of a refrigerator
The sound of water against a well
The cries of birth
Time ticks
Like men‘s hearts in battle

There are shadows on everyone’s hands
I am a female crucified in the dark
wanting to be in your arms in the hot sun
With our eyes as halos


1920

The sky was covered with peaches when I was young
They were yellow and fuzzy topped with carrots
Cauliflower flavored pears
And lettuce hit the planets
It was a mess
Birds with music in their chests
And plastic dolls without pubic hair fell from the air
And swam my nightly skies
Torrid in bed I lay
From the blanket where I sweat
I saw my cat on the green grass eating hot dogs all beef
Devouring like I did at the backyard picnic
before the alka seltzer hit
I was Eve not yet a rib watching the peaches in the sky
My lips were fuzzy and tingled
I changed into my embryonic swimsuit
The waves swept hypodermic needles to the shore
The whales beached
The rain forest gone
Under the sunscreen I tell you it is hot
You are the boy of my dreams
Your face is covered with peach fuzz from the sky
And your eyes are red like carrots

Long After
Hepatitis has devoured your liver
You are quiet on the bed
When we were budding I was your dream
Now under the blankets I sweat estrogen
I need a water filter
There are carcinogens in the pipes
I don’t know the landlord’s name.
He lives in Connecticut in a big house
With his six children and a dog

There is a picture over you
Monet haystack glistens in this world of your crumpling bones
And without moisture skies
My sharp tongue is the needle that calls you
To search its unsettled pinkness at dawn.
The stitches on your nightshirt
And am I still your dream
Be careful what you say if you could talk
Every man is listening
In his wheel chair with his prostate cancer
The nurse wipes his ass
His limp lust unconscious in comas
Sleeping dreamlessly on the mattress with the plastic
Hoping not to pee in his pants like when he was born