plastic surgery at the pearly gates-- 11/11

Plastic Surgery at the Pearly Gates

You were the picturebook bible devil
with your red beard and a smile that tugged at the feet of all the girls.
I watched your eyes roll as you looked up my guardian angel’s skirt
you told her she was tighter than me, so much better.
You almost tasted heaven
had she not rolled over.

But I’m going under Jezebel’s knife.
(god have mercy, christ have mercy)
She’ll slice my forehead open and, she’ll pull shut my eyes.
She’ll tattoo her name underneath permanent eyeliner.
She’ll make a centerfold of me
And I’ll wear her feather and glue wings.
But just like Lady Icarus I’ll fly too near the sweaty-headed sun
in his museum of phallic clouds
where he pushed into me like an elevator button.
(i went up
then down again.)

And I will tumble, eaten by crazed koi
into an emporer’s pond
Chinese water torture, a chorus of beautifuls to the peasant girl.
This must be what heroin feels like.
This must be some sort of hell they didn’t tell me about
in the basements or the attic of my skeletal aunt’s house.
Here there are no bloody statues
No miracles in your morning toast.
Just a discarded arab strap and a starry-eyed love drug.