Why bolt your door? On which side
lies the danger? People scream when they panic.
All you can manage is a whimper. A blood
axe has two sides. One for each of your faces.
A woman the size of your mirror refuses
to eat anything that was once alive.
You mumble for your mother and father, chopped
to bits in the cannery. Your cat turns its nose
up at the smell of tuna. Cloven hooves suit
your frock. You dance to the beat of walnuts
crashing on your roof. Down the lane,
a priest disguised as a priest saves you a seat
on his sofa. The Holy One, The Despised
One, Jesus: knocks softly on your door.