All morning I read
an essay on fear
that plucked the cord at the base of my skull.
It takes a form not unlike
ten bedazzled women
standing on the backs
of galloping white horses
in virtually seamless

I mean
writing the same poem for infinity—

And ghosts must do again what gives them pain?
Those alive do it again.
There is the matter
of houses.
Of possessions—

I’m going up there
with a hammer
and a bouquet.
I’m going to get things done.
Captain of this starship
in flashes of chivalry—

I mean
there is no stopping me.
Like going out to parties
already half blind, speaking
beautifully and very close

standing in a parking lot
indelicate, hollering at the shit-brigade hovering like dragonflies over the future—


smashed in reverse—
come, ground sliding
and everywhere
touched by bones and assets
and straightforward hunger—

I’m going to eat it all, forever.

I mean
I’ll take it.

I mean
the whole thing.
I’m going to eat
the whole goddamn
for the rest of my life.

Bianca Stone is the author of several poetry chapbooks, including I Want To Open The Mouth God Gave You Beautiful Mutant (Factory Hollow Press) and I Saw The Devil With His Needlework (Argos Books 2012). She is also illustrator of Antigonick, a collaboration with Anne Carson (New Directions). Her poems have appeared in such magazines as Best American Poetry 2011, Conduit, and Tin House. She lives in Brooklyn and her website can be found here.