HEARSE

5 2 Y H E A R S E M A R T H A Z W E I G after William Blake Oops, hit the skid rind, cruel world slipped a corkscrewy peel of it’s-about-time. Spirits high, royalty flung itself wide open upon its own unhinges & by a splinter of chance that night I rose, my first foot received into a golden glassyeyed slingback pump, slick as princeling himself & the moon by its half & halfagain measures recalculating what brass tarnish or shine he & his might take to me & mine. Heels, toes, how didn’t both poor stepsisters flail tipsy & lose their balances, bloody-shod & blind! Remember the cornfield listening? – nick of the worm in the rolypoly pumpkin’s undercarriage? Sooner or later a watched wedding boils. ...