my uneaten sarcophagus;
knock me over poltergeist--  
we're running out of food

i teach my body new ways to hide
itself-- sliced flesh from
rib cage under the red shine
heat lamp of this buffet table--
my breasts r ur selection of petit fours--
furrow my fondant or
suffocate under the sirens--
call me call me call me
to the rocks-- this is where 
i've been stacking boxes into
fortress-- into prayer-- into 
silence-- i hide
handfuls of desire in the boxes
i stack beneath my bed--
i tell myself this way i won't go hungry--
this way i'll be prepared 
when we've sliced down to the
bone-- 
make wishes with my carcass--
a brother on each side of a wish 
bone-- eat the boxes haunted 
by my fear of running
out of my own skin to eat--
crock pot my body into soup broth--
i am reminded how
the morning crawls over itself
with broken knees--
i creep out of an archway built
of the lies i tell myself--
i say that i'm getting better
when
i mean i'm building a wall
pantry thick enough so that
u won't think there could be someone
living there--
i removed the self-hate from
my skin to build a city--
lay awake in a measuring cup
with me--
my brothers both
separately wish for rain &
the semblance of what 
they once called a sister   
who is now an obelisk--
if u wanted to fuck me u'd 
have knock over a watch tower
of cereal boxes &
100 calorie popcorn sleeves &
granola bars i buy without the courage
to eat--
what does it take to become
a monument? 
have i enough walls yet
to divorce my body of poltergeists?
when u stand back u can see
i've got a life of dominoes--
kiss me wrong & it's over
because we're already 
running
running running 
out of provisions-- i watch
the steam from the towers
of the nuclear power plant--
the two thick lips of uranium
who kiss us into a bunker--
i'm not afraid of a real melt down
but i'm running out of food
& door knobs
& closer doors to keep my
ghosts in--
they sit on the porch at night
to smoke cigarettes so that
the whole house smells like
chocolate chip cookies i'll 
never eat-- 
watch me-- i'm an architect 
of shame--
this is how the Pharaohs go to 
sleep-- a catacomb of 
uneaten fears--
write my name on the obelisk
i want u to knock me over--
i want to be your haunted dominoes--
your  afterlife archway
carved from my wishbones--