Silence of the Lamb
by Arthur Fairley
She refused
to take her words orally.
The earliest were force-fed by a
panicked mother. Hopefully
out of harm’s way. She began to dance
open-mouthed through the gland’s shadow,
a wail-harp is brought in,
little by little white notes are torn
from her throat
mucous-torn
uterus-torn
it is the breeding season of song.
