the ghost of karen carpenter

starving women are majestic
so efficient

hair falling like straw in the wind
fuzzy jointed where the wind blows through. in the dirt of old rayon
skin like bark
they photosynthesize the will and embarrass children
their holocaust hips
small girl implosions at the end of a fork

castrati envious
are they really women or secret boys in their sister’s clothes
boys in search of tragedy eating can’t provide
the terrors of roast beef and the ordeal of ice cream
staring into fat as into the abyss
is this comedy for the insane
or can girls really live on sunshine and water
their roots sucking life from some future documentary
on what went wrong /

starvation is a question for the eyes
bones are a spectator sport
what can you say to the skull
behind their words
the sad dying way their lips
make a smile /