I want a goddess who stinks.
I’m tired of these
Tired goddesses
Their shoulders white and sandals neatly tied
Their back quivers and bows
5
Their lack of men and their pristinely polished shields.
I want a goddess who ruts in the mud,
Back quivering
Who bows to no one but bends
Close to the earth
10
Who buries her face deep in the dirt and the scent of life
Who gathers life and living close to her nose, nuzzling
Who gathers life up gently and pulls it into her bosom
Who licks it and knows it in the dark.
I want a goddess who holds on
15
With hair and teeth and claw
With dirt under her nails and hair under her arms.
I want a goddess who plays and romps
With twigs in her hair
Mud on her toes, come on
20
Her thigh jiggling
Her scent thick about her
Breasts keeping time to her dance through the woods
The flesh of her butt nestled in a crevice
In a cave as she lights a candle and talks to the albino spiders there
25
Whispering their woven secrets.
I want a goddess with food in her mouth
Light in her soul
Fire in her belly
Blood on the ground
30
As she cradles the
Life she creates.
Be gone with these sterile, civilized he-women
Supports of your nicely approachable reality
Systemized and sanitized
35
Beyond recognition
Relegated to the wall
Flowers in your halls of
Destruction, despair and propriety.
I want a goddess who stinks.
40
