160 Taboo I learn from you the meaning of taboo, when you are passing Me with a granite face and the words you have scrabbled on it With metal: 'I donít look at her' -- so deep that they are scarring After they flew at me from inside your ripped ridges of ribs -- In lava. Slowly moving on your wooden legs, which smolder; Striking against the corners of walls with your shoulders, in smoke; And staring somewhere far beyond my words and out of focus -- Then, you are teaching me the taboo: 'I'm not looking at her.'


Confined Verse
Collected Poems