Gloves

Today I found a baby's glove

Lying on the drainage board so still

Yesterday a leather glove from the slim hand of a woman.

The next time I saw one it was lying half frozen and twisted on the kerb..and I...Now I have my own private collection

All lined in rows when you open up the wardrobe doors

Now I have no room for my obsession

Lined up and labelled in neat little packets.

The next time I saw one it stuck inside my head and became all that I could think about.

I'll think twice before I pick it up this time

Since I thought about what it had done and where it had been and who it had belonged to

And I'll twice before I pick it up this time

I thought about who it might have done and where it had come from and what it might have belonged to.

The next time I saw one I had that itching sensation but my hands stayed by my sides and I couldn't take it.

And through wax seals and padlocks... A hand through my ribcage.

Past the choking I saw palms and fingers grasping shoulders...collarbone...crushing.

I imagined myself hacking desperately at a sea of appendages, forward and right, freeing myself like a butcher, feeling the mash of bone and sinew running slowly down the front of my body...and I couldn't take it any more, I said, "I've got to go, I've got to get out of here," and I ran down the street, I've got to get out of here, I've got to go.