OPEN-BRAIN SURGERY

anemia

once in a daydream

i drew all the iron sinking under my skin

in my blood

out through my ears with a

sharp and silver sieve. quick as the needle

pierces near bone, and i was empty.

now

i always keep one

whole

gallon

of the salty stuff,

right under my heavy tongue

inside of my fire mouth

spreading up like caps on gums hungry for fill

—& now, constant supply

from which i will spray

any dead man or serpentine spirit

that so wishes to open up my red river

to see what's inside

without my holy permission.

i am the golden guard of my own

kingdom, armed with knives and a venom

strong enough to kill every snake

that slithers and sleeps too close

to my gates, both golden

and galvanized

the very same way. blood,

on steel canvas.