5 of Cups

5 of Cups

Again I am chomping on metal
my vise-jaw clamping it
while you do heartless surgery on my ego.

How disappointing it is for you
to be human
surrounded by humans -
not God, or King, or Robot
infallible and in control -
but human as Adam, as your father,
as me.

How joyless for you
this selective blindness
that narrows your sight to
the empty cup.

How disappointing it is for me
to be woman
vulnerable to man -
not strong, independent or callous
satisfying myself -
but weak as Eve, as Ophelia,
as me.

How wretched I am,
wrestling - bored and bitter,
Grasping at an elusive star
taunted by romance.

Again I bear down,
taste the steel,
devotedly taking each incision.

(c) Tasha Chinnock 2006