control room

i am building a button place.
one lever for the sweet water
& another for the milk room.
i keep my little beeping closet
where no one else can find it.
television monitors of the soup.
dear god i am out of thumbs.
if only there was a machine that could
count all the prongs on all the forks.
the air is too full of wings to breathe. 
i make sure that the red buttons 
always mean poppy fields & that 
the blue buttons mean we are
going to chew mint to death.
i trace the wires with my finger.
once, i had a lover who i brought here.
he was terrified. he covered his ears
& asked, "how do you survive 
with all this?" i pushed a button 
to release the eels. they took their journey
away from civilization & into
the honey ground. i was trying to say,
"i do not have a choice." 
he did not believe me. was disgusted.
saw that i was building onto the room.
everyone always thinks it is enough.
the room is never enough. bleeds
like a pomegranate. catacombs of jewel.
he did not understand. i will never be alone.
i have a nest of needles. a boat 
on which to sail right into 
the ghosts' wild face. no need 
to take the tongue from the oven.
smoke fills my voice. i take myself 
to the static edge. a flock of vultures. 
shut the door for the day. press my ear
to the husk to hear it hum.
i never saw him again but sometimes
i push a yellow button
& see just one of his eyes 
whale-like on my screen.