Venus of the Closet
Venus of the Closet
it's all in your heads
each in a wooden cubby
each stack of five crowned
by the randomly appropriated detail
of an arch,
seven of these at least -
convergence into a wedge,
like your room of heads
was snuck into some unused space
among walls,
placed your head here
on the little table,
chose another
like turning stones,
rocks watching rocks,
admiration of the star at your feet,
harsh as your lines
mute as heads full of
stacked arched wedged snuck..
affixed to your stump in a primp
one by one in utmost privacy
----
ŠJohn Eivaz
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