PRETTY THING / BOWIE'S LAMENT

By Scout Clancy Batreau

Let me trace your scars

from the inside of your humming legs

across the circuits of your skin,

and rest beside your hissing bruise

from your trip to Mars.

Allow the blood to mix with your synthetic tears,

falling to the Earth

like sacrificial wine,

a membrane of milky rust.

Let me have my fill.

The transmission came as though a seizure;

violent and uncalled for,

an Exodus for us both.

Sheathe yourself under Orion’s belt,

he will call you home graciously.

Let your scent linger on my body,

leave your insignia burned into my neck,

on my brittle bones peck

your initials

so that your name in engraved

on my skull.

Play Hamlet with me.

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