Here is a peacock drowned in the ocean,
an oily swirling rainbow of feathers.
Here is her right hand. You may pluck fingers
till her nerves are pared. Never sever
her hand. Here is a chicken; raw and bare.
Its naked wings dangle mid-air.

Here is her left hand flapping in the air.
She beams knife teeth. Her cataract, ocean
eyes spill into the brine. Roasting a bare
turkey breast, she superglues the feathers
to her chest. Am I pretty? Her smile severs
illusions. Are my arthritic fingers

celestial wings? Here are her fingers.
You may plunge her fists into the airless
dishwater. Drowned. You may never sever
her breath from the curling Indian Ocean
where she is a dodo flaunting feathered
breasts. Turkey breasts, chicken breasts and bare

breasts; plump and sunburned red. A bare
bird body. Ready to bake. Licked fingers.
How could I be growing old? Bird feathers
are fingers; feathers fingering the air.
Here is an emu drowned in the ocean.
Swirls in the kitchen sink. Never sever

the head from the neck. Never dissever
the hole from the heart. I cannot, will not bear
this alone. She falls into the ocean.
It feels more like birth than death. One finger
curled, clutching onto the sink-rim grasps air.
Fingers, don’t fail me now. Please don’t! Feathers--

don't fail me now. Please don’t fail me. Feathers?
Here is her heart. You can find it severed
and sunk and stuck in the sink strainer where air
has turned it brown. Where are my wings? The bare
bones exposed. A fallen peacock. Fingers
dangle in a mirage. Boiling ocean

waves curl and feather. Daydreams sever
toddy air and burnt roasters. She fingers
flames on a bare boat lost in the ocean.