As She Lay Crying

As. Was. When
Auburn bundle
Stoned the pavement

Ring a Ring o’ Roses
Pocket full of voices,
How can a child comprehend
Wordscapes without faces?
We all fall down

Literary terrorist,
She wanted to burn it all down,
But matches only lit cigarettes and
Edges of stolen library books

Writing poetry in guise
Of sultry French widow,
Simone stalked Seine banks
Coffined illness into symbolist wreath  

Always a bit on the side
-  Thespian starring as usherette,
Complaining ‘men only
Want me for my dirty deeds.’

Stroking bandaged wrists
Her Mother pleaded
“Promise me, we won’t
Have to bury you.”

Life stalked in intervals of sanity
Satin laundry of heavenly cloth,
Until  
Nothing of hers endures…...

No hymns to her
Or lover mourning,
Just a hole in the paper sky
Ripped by outstretched arm
As. Was. When she jumped