Poem: Who is afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Fig. 19. “Pulse tracing of the ‘fear heart’.” THE PHYSIOLOGY OF FAITH AND FEAR. 1912. 

Marshal law

I lay down.

 My pillow is a bookcase

My own little black box had made my body

Walk for slaughter

I no longer whistle

I am greedy for blood ink.

Marshal-allah

I skid around the intelligence,

SIS, I can/I do

jump straight into the fire

My daddy was a journalist,

working for the British

And my own lion-heart.

No clear night, no north star.

Away in a manger

Je mange la pomme,

My mother's Afghan orchard.

Who owns Mr. Shepard

I do, only to-

guide me home.