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no one | by Abra K.
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no one

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Someone lives in a cave

eating his toes,

I know that much.

Someone little lives under a bush

pressing an empty Coca-Cola can against

his starving bloated stomac,

I know that much.

A monkey had his hands cut off

for a medical experiment

and his claws wept.

I know that much.

 

I know that it is all

a matter of hands.

Out of the mournful sweetness of touching

comes love

like breakfast.

Out of the many houses come the hands

before the abandonment of the city,

out of the bars and shops,

a thin file of ants.

 

I've been abandoned out here

under the dry stars

with no shoes, no belt

and I've called Rescue Inc. –

that old-fashioned hot line –

no voice.

Left to my own lips, touch them,

my own nostrils, shoulders, breasts,

navel, stomach, mound, kneebone, ankle,

touch them.

 

It makes me laugh

to see a woman in this condition.

It makes me laugh for America and New York city

when your hands are cut off

and no one answers the phone.

 

~ Anne Sexton ~

 

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Taken on June 13, 2009