Knees without ligaments
Find #13
Dome Bulfaro

     

Now incarnate in Trasimeno she makes an oar out of her femur then

a stone out of her kneecap signaling her desire to me

from out of her tibia a flute that enables our telecommunication

from her fibula an anchor that pierces my heart like a lance

 

Agilla, lake-bodied nymph, I sink in your depths and settle on your womb's bottom

like a baby, like a foundering suicide boat. Cling

to my body's bow like a figurehead and after, my compatriots start to call:

I look up, I see legs, and I talk to you like a sailor long away from home

 

Trans. Christopher Arigo

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