A Clue and a Helmet

by J.E. Beville

The deceit was favorable
Warm milk in a sour stomach
They all went to bed at church
Candles burned the tabernacles
So we all got to see God.
     She made a chewy dinner
     Her mother and I exchanged
     Nervous glances
     On our plates we pushed food,
     Which wasn't food at all.
          I could add him to the list
          "Sociopath Artists United
          In My Vagina," but
          I really should be out
          Buying a clue and a helmet.
Fine jewelry, you see, all
Beneath the pews' ashes
Watches or pearls or fillings
God made a crown
For His kitty-cat.
     I could devour her easily
     Gold hair and all or none
     Her the cream flesh that made
     Things that meant nothing to
     Anyone older than 10.
          The flirting is shameless past
          Midnights and middle careers
          We haven't inflated yet,
          and if I can do no wrong
          I will never believe him.
Precious Penelope was the tabby's name
When she trotted down
The hall, her crown would smash
Upon the floor, trinkets and
Talismans bouncing, chipped.
     I didn't know anything
     About being a girl's puppet
     And with a child on her hands
     She wrapped me in her lankiness,
     Kept me blind as a bat.
          Morning is when expectation
          Wondering and waiting, when
          In my bed a prince and soon
          My path buried.