Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Martinis and Dead Engines

It is Hell outside today.
The animal inside me
yawns
wide open
like a wound.
I am
the alphabet,
letters jumbled
refusing to form words,
refusing to cooperate.
It is as if I have finally gone on strike
in protest
against the heat.
How could I melt the darkness
or put out the fire with my pen,
when there are monsters inside
roaming the streets of my soul?
You say
my mouth is a crater of hate.
My head is a maze
I cannot escape.
My skin,
is a naked beggar
thirsting for a drink.
If I were cut into a thousand pieces
and glued back together
I would never be united,
not in this sun.
I would surely melt
like a soft avocado.
I would dissolve like the old witch
and sizzle in to the ground
leaving nothing behind,
not even my shoes.
There is a name for this heat,
this poison,
that leaves me wanting to take a bath
in jello.
It is beyond oppressive.
It is beyond cruel.
It is the heat of slavery
and slamming doors.
It is the heat of lovers
and sun dogs.
It is the heat of dead engines
and martinis.
There is nothing to do
but be naked.
Nowhere to go
but inside.