the bone-man

the bone-man
I would like to be the bone-man
tonight I am all flesh
you-- world-- who so desires this flesh
why don't you take it
here, I give to you
and take-- why don't you carry it
with the rest of the sludge
down the sea?

what use are hands?
what use are eyes?
what use is flesh?
what use are lips--

here I will tear them from face
here. I will press them against
the bark of this tree--
here I will press them against
this couch, that cradles me unwilling
here. I will press them to the pavement--

I am waiting, here
I am listening
for the one who is coming
for the creak of the gate
for the rustle
of footsteps, under the rustle
of the palms, here--

I will press them to the garage-door,
where we used to play handball
the smack, against the door
while the sky grew dark, and the air
grew cold
I will press them to the driveway
I will grind them under my feet
I will leave a glistening smudge
to kiss the feet of any who pass
by here
maybe even mine.