The Chocolate Infection
By G. E. Murray
Days of the ferret, a sweet fever.
Someone is walking through the sun
With my tongue on a leash.
Say “Ahhh.” Thank goodness,
It’s not diabetes or the Bolivian Rot.
This morning I am a cross
Between lefthandedness
And pointblank rage.
The sun leaks like soft ice.
The infection deepens . . .
My eyes dissolve
In a closet of heat.
I become 4,000
Yellow flowers, chirruping.
O the cliché of a trek into the bowels of China.
O the night that zings like a harpsichord factory!
O gorgeous sun limping in the frozen dusk.
O candy wrappers stacked like bricks!
Snow growls on my roof.
The infection deepens . . .
A day on fire
Placing real rabbits
Where my mouth should be.
I am several kinds of tigers.
I am a confectionary treat.
This fever fills my sleeves
With pearls of honey drops.
Am I too strange to bleed?
I’m behind myself
With a knife and fork,
Revolving on a skewer.
I am wild with grief
As greasy children
Reach deep into my fever
To scoop out their revenge
In double-dips . . .
Come off it, kids.
Next week, I’ll be raining
On the iron road to Malta
And perfect health, melting
Like sugar in the mouth of the Orinoco.
Copyright Credit: G. E. Murray, “The Chocolate Infection” from Repairs. Copyright © 1979 by G. E. Murray. Used by permission of the University of Missouri Press.
Source: Repairs (University of Missouri Press, 1979)