I was born at a very early age. Later, I came to resemble
my misconceptions and grew into the egg
I had been commissioned to exist and avoid.
In this way, we are issued.
My freckled shell now sings etudes in memory of Chopin.
The nails of an honest masculine hand come
to grip beer in a bag with porcelain figure mentality
that others smash across the head
of a beating body, it’s so impatient of me to lethal
and legitimize alone time in your closet
where the evidence is flushed, fondled,
People of the western ways, use the major tools.
Size yesteryear up no more in face-forward
sexual positions nor sum another's lotions
through your own taut skins.
You too can be admired for a kind
of counseling that brackets out overgrown storms
in this planet's semantic discriminations.
Amy King lives in Brooklyn, NY, and is the author of the poetry collections, I'M THE MAN WHO LOVES YOU (BlazeVOX Books, 2007), ANTIDOTES FOR AN ALIBI (BlazeVOX Books, 2005), and THE PEOPLE INSTRUMENTS (Pavement Saw Press, 2003). E-Books are available through Duration Press and Dusie Press online. She teaches Creative Writing and English at SUNY Nassau Community College and is the managing editor for the literary arts journal, MiPOesias.