Piety

he eats black
peppercorns
as a rule

promising
a garlic
aspirin

tongue of fire
his body
can abide

SELF PORTRAIT WITH CIPHER

Listening to strings
Maybe not holding too tightly to things,
I’ve watched lots of sweaty bottles slip,
Endlessly, to the tile; hit;
And jump up shattered.

I’ve got fillings loose in eight bowls,
Three or four kinds of oil,
Four or five vinegars
In event of salad.
I’ve got spoon-shaped Minnie Mouse eyes
And plates for hands.

My fingers are clock and calendar,
My bed, a board with two pillows.
The door bangs in my ringing ears
And the cake-tin wind chimes chime.

There’s the stick and staff I spin
While staring at the smoke detector;
Candles and a transistor radio
For emergencies –

I’ve got a slinky
And a Superball for my set of jacks
And a styrofoam cooler
To keep these objects:
My face and head,
A compass and a vacuum.