A Question

Why do I need to tell you this?

You do not take an easy leave.

I storm your chill departure

And like a starving mastodon

Perhaps aware of eons ending,

Gorge upon you… starving.

Come, let us wrap ourselves

In razor wire garlands.

Dance with sharpened knives and both be blunt

And love with deft incision

Till of us both, the sullen thing

Evaginates.

— Bill Schubart, Winter 1993