Poems

Schizophrenic

by Crystal Hurdle

He has been watching her
for weeks
for weeks.

Ruby smiles have fox teeth.

My facade walks one foot in front of me.
I crouch and loiter behind.
She makes me safe.

He claims
"more eye contact,
more smiles,
increasingly sexual."
He croons he and she have a "relationship."
He sighs, "Her classroom creates a bad
environment for young men."

While, I planned lectures,
chalk dust under
my fingernails,
was she letting her
pointed tongue loll
on her lips, lollipop licks?

Slut. Slut. Slut.

I don't think so.
Please. No.
Please. No.

The lesson to all
was a message unto him.
Prose analysis of the Lord's Prayer.
Lead us not into temptation.
The serpent's lithe body.
Undulations in that garden.
Its flickering tongue
tastes of pomegranate, of pears.

He mewls outside my door
calling her name
or is it mine?
dragging his claws
like chalk on my blackboard.

We are sore afraid.

This poem originally appeared in Canadian Literature #150 (Autumn 1996), Urquhart and Munro. (pg. 84 - 85)