This woman has only Ravens for friends <br />She talks to them through the foggy wired windows of her room in the morgue <br />They gaggle back like gossiping black geese in the surrounding trees <br />As she reads aloud for them from the tear stained pages of her “autobioautopsy” <br />Written from her own life experiences with death <br />And penned by the unnamed ghosts which possess her mediastinal emptiness <br />Each word bears the marks of a Demon or some Pentecostal priest <br />Sent to return her to the grave from which she escaped <br />Meant to die as an embryonic sacrifice she bled instead <br />Her mother to death <br />As some physician ignored his Hippocratic Oath <br />And cut her umbilical cord with his teeth <br />Leaving the scalpel well within her little reach <br />She harbors her rage in the space rendered void of heart and soul <br />She attacks with an immune infectious vengeance <br />Which she inherited from a defective genome <br />That was later found to only exist <br /> In deep dark halls of the Museum of Unnatural Art <br />Where her biological father was a curator of the after dark <br />Deviations between parenting and beguiling <br />So at least she comes by everything she owns honestly <br />As far as anybody knows <br />And this may explain why this woman has only Ravens for friends… <br /> <br /> <br />(2007)<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-caws-for-help-but-her-only-friends-have-all-flown/
