For Anne Sexton (another challenge @ Salty Dreams)

Anne..

you are:

a large hand
the throbbing knuckle

your eyes:
two sticky slots

I am writing this to you
during a tornado
the madness of a goddess
gone mad
you would love it
the iron banging of the wind
the rain muscled like a tiger

Anne..

your poems are:
gravel pits, raging bulls, & slippery docks

they are smooth acrobats
stripped of their clothing

they burn they press
they vomit they speed
they translate

they are drunken pins
& black-forever shots

they are all the doors
you left
wide


open