Witch Baby
They make the phone ring
They look at it.
It rings
Things appear
Things disappear
As they will it
I'm going to be like that
Someday
And I'm going to learn to fly
No lard of swine
No spleen of snake
Yet a wish- impelled flying machine
My body I'll make
Alone
Into the mouth of my Beloved
I will fly
Into the air
The cloud
The face
The wind
I will fly
Baby witch.
|