Bleeding on Telegraph
Red blossom lady of Berkeley. Lovely
lady, limping lady of crucifixion
groin. A drifter of bayonet gashes.
On the inside you may be riddled with handgun
holes, but your wounds date back to childhood
burns. Telegraph, filled with racks of tie-dye
and incense, sees you as a piece of stained
lacework thrown into a pile of crushed
pelvis. It’s hard to find the meaning behind
your hidden canyon. Between your knees and lips
cries the plucked bloodroot. You’re better off with
a needle in your arm. The river takes your denim
by surprise and snips you into bluish doll scraps.
When the mind departs, you say, “So what if I bleed,”
and then hobble through the crowd of aging hippies.
Nicole Borello is the author of So What If I Bleed (Llumina Press, 2010), Fried Fish and Breast Milk (dancing girl press, 2013), Delirium of the Deflowered (Quaci Press, 2013). She is the editor and founder of Quaci Press.