Just as diamond is not real cubic zirconium
this poem is not really
THE END OF TIME
nor the diamond mouth that I check
nightly against African-mined cell phone
chip minerals to say “I balance you,”
a phrase that opens, originates, accounts
in rotting meat poodle skirts
that resist police officer radar guns
in timed successes
and dress in meaningful meat poodle skirt disguises,
(for the leash, sew on 14 pieces
of sequins)
because the more I say it, the more
likely it will be this poem is a really
cool African mined Leonardo Dicaprio,
(cut dog from off- white
piece of felt)
(everyone has seen
the hypothetical asteroid hit the hypothetical earth
on YouTube), the orgasm’s crux—
a ripped up high jinks, the creamy
particles of the American housing
market unearthed and then spurting
on fancy clutches of hair
that grow from dead creamed skulls,
that sing cantos from dead diamond
mouths and radiate the new spirit,
in onion sprouts
from their metacarpals cracking
in the outpost’s burial ground.
And just as the organic little girl walks across
a field camp, finds green shoots,
pulls them up for her mama’s soup,
our carbon
is tilted
and nursed in flag
formations to make diamond
flame. Carbon so
cradled and bathed
how the baby carbon says gaga mama
with its rattle and bonked bones,
miniature fingers and miniature head—
the way we pinpoint carbon,
pressure it into gross abandon,
into adopting a stance
of meat poodle skirts, the way we force
carbon to collapse in on itself
like women cut out of Sweden,
like Viking ship women back to the asteroid,
whose fingers knit
carbon hills and carbon keeps rolling along
the fault lines, in galactic hissy fits, and then the hills
call their lovers on cell phones
and the digits keep rolling.
Author Bio: Sandra Simonds grew up in Los Angeles, California. She earned a B.A. in Psychology and Creative Writing at U.C.L.A and an M.F.A. from the University of Montana, where she received a poetry fellowship. In 2010, she earned a PhD in Literature with an emphasis in Creative Writing from Florida State University. She is currently finishing a second full-length collection of poems called Mother was a Tragic Girl which will be published by Cleveland State University Poetry Center in 2012. She is the author of Warsaw Bikini (Bloof Books, 2008), which was a finalist for numerous prizes including the National Poetry Series; she is also the author of several chapbooks including Used White Wife (Grey Book Press, 2009) and The Humble Travelogues of Mr. Ian Worthington, Written from Land & Sea (Cy Gist, 2006). Her poems have been published in many journals such as Poetry,The Believer, the Colorado Review, Fence, the Columbia Poetry Review,Barrow Street, Volt, the New Orleans Review and Lana Turner. Her Creative Nonfiction has been published in Post Road and other literary journals. She currently lives in Tallahassee, Florida and is an Assistant Professor of English at Thomas University in beautiful, rural Southern Georgia.