Holawaka

i

At night, men listened to the cries of
Holawaka and were determined to know how
Just this morning eternity was bartered
For the fleshy spoils of death; now
The snake with its pale-green guts could
Only perish with a bloody stone
Gorged violently past the stretching
Throat, separating every bone in the way
With equal envy.

ii

Again and again
I have wrapped my
Throbbing tenement
Against the tree,
Massaging coldly
My naked relish
To give birth
To myself—
Scale for scale—
Leaving only an
Empty wear of a
Hollow trade
That I have since
Twice removed
From my foes.

iii

It was dictated then: a curse,
Most harsh, my own
Feathers pricked like a thousand
Needles to and from my skin.

Every pore a shriller punishment.
Every ounce of sanity a cry out loud.
Eventually I could bear no longer 
And plucked my own complexion
Thread by thread, aching

With an anger surmounting even fire—
So many colours!

My own constitution drove me mad, but
My own contrition was not enough
To quench the hunger in my head—
So soft, so succulent, raw and rouge, riling
With all its redolent glory.

Dale Chou
2012-05-29