Thursday, March 31, 2005

eyebrows

your eyebrows are intruding
they curl like teabag mould
septic algae in my room
waggling like the bottoms
of damsels from the black and white movies

i wish you would comb them
or try a trim.

your eyebrows like to talk
about things that are nimble
they make allusions to minds
and mean something else
entirely.

your eyebrows want to rub me
this will not happen
sometimes i think that i would rather wallow in
the mud and faeces
of farmer's stalls
and chat to the pigs
about straw-
munching
and the weather,
than let your eyebrows relax on my stomach
stretch their fuzzy legs across my skin
and conjure images
of greasy nuns
and fingered accordians
or furrier pianos

i cannot look your eyebrows in the eye.
when i do, they twitch
they think salaciously of lewd comments
which they hide, like schoolbooks over crotches
and giggle
at me.

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