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12/18/2002 entry: "Poetry is nice"

Here's another Marge Piercy poem I particularly like..

There is no known way to tickle a clam

You say, things are getting better between us.
You shout that over your shoulder
as you race down an Up escalator
and out through a subway tunnel.
A train head on would scare you less than I
as I circle waving handkerchiefs and daisies.
You draw up your knees and turn clam.
You think I want to steal your soggy pearls.
Snap: you snip off my finger.
Do you think you could be eaten
whole? In parts? For breakfast?
You cannot remember who I am: fragments
break off and float loose
like something rotting under water.
Slimecold suspicion pumping through
washes the slight web of affection away like waste.
Your shell builds involution upon involution
and you are closing down outer chambers of your mind.
Total defense
implies a dream of total surrender
but my hands are not tools for opening shells
and it was never my intention
to consume you.