and what did you taste

***and what did you taste
     to suddenly understand
     the language of the birds
by Miriam Sanger

dragon’s blood
from the edge of your sword
or your own
     red
     external
from a loose tooth
or bloodied nose
after you crashed
     through the privet hedge
and went head over
     handlebars
on the new bike
you’d forgotten how to brake
     on
viscous
     between the legs
forbidden, but...
calendrical
or smeared to the knees
in childbed
this humor you must have put yourself in
before the crow
in the parking lot
cocked its intelligent head
and told you
weather was running in
from the west.

Lung Tap

by Miriam Sagan

my name is on my wrist
so it has come to this

there’s screaming down the hall
but why I can’t recall

they say the screamer is me
but this is hard to see

I tell her to shut up
scream lessens not a bit

my name is on my wrist
an opiate of bliss

in sacrificial pose
bound knees support my nose

the needle is my name
she’s screaming just the same

I read what I am called
and memory is jarred

my name is on my wrist
m-i-r-i-a-m means bitterness