Walking around

It so happens I’m tired of my feet and toenails,
my hair and my shadow.*

It so happens I’m tired of being a woman.

I pass by dressing shops in my faded jacket of goose feathers.

I don’t want to see shoe stores of animal hide nor make-up counters

of hundred choices to look like someone else.   

I want to chip away my breasts and curve of my hips,

I want to pluck away my eyelashes, shave my hair with a razor blade.

It so happens I’m tired of being a woman.

I don’t want to be just a limb or apple of Adam

Nor the sunflower seeds borrowed under the snow.

I want to carve the rough wood in my hand.      

I want to level the stone steps in my rock garden.

I want to hammer the roof of the cathedral in the city.

That is why on Monday, I will walk to the river edge

Cover my body with breadcrumbs

And allow the seagulls and pelicans to peck my neck,

my lips, my eyes, until I am bare dust.   

Maybe then I can hear the sea shells, broken white, on my feet.

  

* Lines and Inspiration from Pablo Neruda’s  Walking Around

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:  Mary Mixed Bag  - Borrowing lines to write this poem.  
and D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics - Sculpting a Poem  - hosted by Victoria Slotto  


I had originally used this picture in my Lightning post.  I think its a cool picture to use for this post.