This kid wants a spider. I haven't got one. But I do have a dirty window sill. There-egg sack. Million trillion spider babies. Waiting. You'll see.
The Society of the Second Coming of Christ Jesus on Earth
Ann Lee went with her husband, the butcher, to silent meeting in the neighbor's house; commonly those in power broke up the meetings, one jailed, another beaten when he did not remove his hat.
Ann Lee buried her children watched her body bleed, wrested power to turn from her husband to stop his fists.
Ann Lee sailed to America danced in the fields at Waterlievet; a Quaker now she shook with power used her body to summon spirit. (1768.)
Ann Lee returned to virgin, mother of no one mother of all danced naked channeled spirits-- people buried in land she would fill with her bones.
Mother Ann the second coming female messiah dances dances in darkness dances in mist feet pounding grown to hundreds advancing dancing in steady purpose mighty thousands palms lifted across doubled floors.
(They draw pictures of their visions, roll them up, put them away.)
Eldress Bertha and Eldress Gertrude orphan children taken in educated sign the Covenant; in another century sit together on a metal cart feet swing bonnet strings dangle old women with faces of children. (1968.)
Dill, mint, apple, rosemary: five pies a day.
(Celibacy seems to imply long life or is it the energy of dancing feet?)
Twelve women left in New England, an argument; most decide to close the Covenant; the experiment is ended the second coming closed.
(Forget the apostates at Sabbathday.)
Beside the hearth at Canterbury waits a cradle carved for an adult: grandmother's cradle hold dimming body after sight after hearing after taste after smell body left with rhythm only rocking steady carried to the third coming home.
Canine Castration
It is the first walk since the surgery and he is eager, sniffing the soiled snow, tail up, ears out. The legless man slows his wheelchair at the corner by the Arms of Mercy but will he mildly accept the pat on the head, no, he is still the feisty, scrappy stray, yapping, snapping, furiously digging dead leaves into the street. I apologize, pull the leash across the street, now alarming a paranoid schizophrenic, turning, eyes down, talking to no one. Even the boys in baseball caps waiting for the bus don't feel safe. They do a little dance around his nose.
Henry has built a glass pavilion in your grandmother's back yard. It is stately rooms alternating with jungle, here is a steel and glass library with leather bound great books. Here a long glass table set with gold-banded china. Here is a zoo with giraffe and zebra. A study with a karakul stuffed above the desk. Glass jars with invertebrate sea-life. A room of desert birds. A case of Egyptian gods. It is waiting for your party. It is waiting for us to move in. We will wear white coats of arms.
