Feb. 25th, 2011

supremegoddessofall: (lj idol)
I am a Scapegoat yearning to be an eScapegoat,
for whatever the fuck that means.

I am nebulous in my solidity,
Translucent in my opacity.
(If you have to ask if both are possible,
you don't know me...at all.)


I aspire to the Queen of Wands,
or maybe that of Swords -
instead I am the Hanged Man,
or perhaps the Fool.

I shall never be the unblinking Sphinx -
her blind Eye sees
what my open eyes are Blinded to.

Or maybe I plucked my own eyes out -
Oedipus no longer worthy of Sight.

I am not cold because I am quiet in the telling,
and your tears do not mean you feel more than I.

Even Anchors grow tired of the weight,
and long to be unmoored.
You may find it heavy to be a burden all the time,
yet I find it a burden to be heavy all the time.

But Function follows Form,
and Anchor-shaped girls
become Anchor-shaped women
become Anchors.

No one ever asks the Anchor
if it needs to be Held.

And Form follows Function,
so anchor becomes Anchor becomes ANCHOR,
and it no longer remembers
what it is to be Free.

To be ungrounded, floating.

Atlas never asked to carry it, you know -
stoicism wins top prize at the masque.

Still Atlas gets tired, too,
and he has long forgotten how to Shrug -
Who carries Atlas,
when he is worn out and shaking?

Maybe robots do dream of electric sheep.

I wouldn't know.

I tilt my head and affirm
that One is always Glad to be of Service.

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Kimberly Boyd-Bowman

May 2011

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