[Maya is the mother of Buddha.]
In suckling, the breast
Cleaves open and there seated, silence like
A spider infinite marching.
I think of Maya’s womb, long with men
Like sand. When asked how she
Retains her shape
Says Maya: the world
Ends in two directions—
Maya with her corridor
Of womb. I looked at my
Breast and wondered, seeing:
Eyeball, mouth.
you sneezed
on me. i
loved that!
do it again!
i like some
fluids better
than others.
wink. i like
making
porn with
you. we
eat cashews
from a
tin can.
we touch
elbows. you
flick your
scabs at
me. you’re
gross. sneeze
on me again.
my mother
watches at
home.
At 19, Denis Johnson published his first book of poetry, Man Among Seals. A couple of years after that, he got a BA from University of Iowa and MFA from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, where he studied under Raymond Carver. Johnson is prolific. He’s published plays, nonfiction, five books of poetry, eight novels, a short story collection (Jesus’ Son, a cult classic without the cult) and a novella (Train Dreams).
