what I felt was not birth pangs, rather
a sullen sense of becoming particular,
a lump with a weight but not a shape
at another remove from Mother Earth
Sat on a wheel and stared at
I could not look back,
but suddenly subjected to inertia---
centrifugal?centripedal?--
(who could be sure?)
under the pressure of hands
I could do nothing but comply
leaving nature
to enter history, as it were,
a bit of identity
out for a spin
O revolution! A space
began to hollow out
where my center once was,
and then a mouth,
a base due south,
and far north
of finger corrugated walls
made smooth by palms
a lip
What I would be--
elongated vase or
bosomed amphora
or cookie jar---
I scarcely had time
to wonder;
if I'd be slim or stout,
crowned with a top
or given handles
though a matter of concern
was quite outside my control
dizzy as I was
Very well, then, I thought,
I'm done;at last
that infernal
whirling's over:
what's this?
an unguent is spread upon
the form I am
and seeps
into my pores
And on a tray
with barely recognized
cousins? siblings?
I pass through a curtain of fire
where an angel stands guard
who will not release me
from the blaze
until the will
of the hand is fast.
(Dec.10 1996)
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