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This appears in a pre-2010 issue of Down in the Dirt magazine. You can get saddle-stitched issues that are now longer printed by requesting a reproduction of the issue for amazon sale as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.

Tattoos In Spring

Lisa Markowitz

The wind is arms is the first thing
I think, how the first thing I ever want
To write about is the wind.

Today it’s awfully windy
In this long dry city,
And it blow dries my hair
Like a stylist might,
All being teased.

In the spring of things
I half expect to see a dinosaur
Walking down Maryland Parkway.
That would be great. But then,
It might stomp me out forever.

I have to eat up the wind
To be happy today
And it will go through me
Like a spring thing.
Like the song says,
You gotta get in to get out,
Like a song about the healer.

I forget that I got a tattoo
When I was seventeen.
I forget the Cheshire Cat’s lips
In a big wide smile,
The light and dark pinks,
Tail winding up,
Paw picking its teeth.
I forget when it was fresh,
His mouth speckled with my blood;
Looked like he’d been feasting on Alice.

Then I see it in the mirror,
Bare naked back and it heals me
Because it’s there, foreign, a little stupid
But bled into my back forever,
And outside the wind whips up
For another noisy storm.

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