Eight years old. There is
a giant moonlit boot outside my window.
I jump down onto
the instep, climb the laces hand over hand
past the ankle onto the silk stocking, then
discover fine hairs to hang onto as I
move up the leg.

At eight I have no idea
why I’m climbing the giant, or
what I’m climbing toward.

At twelve I get a clue
but it weighs me down so much
I keep slipping back to earth and
I have to begin again.

Tonight another boot sits there tapping.
I want to get past the presumed target.
When I reach the chest, I’ll raise a thumb and lunge
through the skin.

I’ll cling for years under the skin.
I’ll forget how to climb.

When (once again)
she cuts me out and
I fall like blood
splashing onto the toe
of her boot,

I’ll be eight years old
before I climb again.

I’ve run into a person here on LJ who’s looking for info, video clips, etc. on women slammers, rappers, and poets for a paper.

Her LJ name is shockfactor and you can respond in my comments section. I’ll have her friend me and contact you through that.

For the record, I’ve sent her already to bullhorn, livepoets, and gotpoetry.

Thanks!

EDIT: Here’s a followup from the aforementioned researcher:

Good deeds rewarded. Thanks, all.