I played there
because it was centrally located
and one could pick up a lot of eavesdropping that way
besides it had those bottomless mahogany cabinets
for hiding monstrosities.
So it    was    from the yellow shroud
of a cocoon, somebody called my name
a sound brown and smooth as river pebbles
from the slippery monolithic Cumberland   and I
called to myself with my eyes
in a voice like rasping bowels
a sound like black peach pits
dried brittle in the sun to release the tree inside
not even soft as a raisin, knowing I was never pink
to pop into birth like a parachute      not I
not through that steaming acid blood circus
like a loaf of bread face down
to die having never been birthed like a stone.