hammer wedding

you tell me that a love poem
is a toolbox of marching bands.
i carry my hammer.
catastrophe the windows.
there used to be a girl on the roof
but she jumped & turned into 
a heron. we try to get the wasp's nest
but it turns out to be my father's head.
don't tell me you know about my veil.
i have kept it like a quail 
in the singing box all my life.
i whisper to it & say,
"there is not such thing as the sun."
it weeps & thanks me. i don't want to be
your man handle. i don't want
to be your grotto or gorge. i want to be
a knitting needle through the skull
of a night terror. pin your moths 
to the cork. keep your teeth
in your skull. i used to feed you mine
like bubblegum. spat oceans
on the dining room floor.
we hold a wedding but just for
our hammers. mine is the woman.
you have to keep
your rage somewhere. "you may now
break the wall open." do not tell me
i am your stray cat child. i do not want
to be loved in a spare room. 
i want to be a candelabra or at least
a chandelier.