Francisca Seycora

Famous Viennese sex-worker, died of meningitis in General Hospital at age 19.  
           Her skull is currently on display at the Mütter Museum in Philadelphia, PA. 


I. Frontal Bone 

            I am: shaken awake — all stiff-necked, stifled,   
            all pock-marked sockets, wrung-out wrists.  
            I’ll smash my gnashed teeth at the morning.   
            Click my tongue at all the orchids on the floor.  
            Take a look at this morning: all knocks at the door,  
            I am certain that the wanting will gobble me up,  
            ‘til my brain oozes up against its casing,  
            ‘til my brow boils at the thought of your touch.   
II.   Ethmoid Bone  

                      Could you make me Olympian?   
                      If you’re going to tell a story, then  
                      ossify it against the classics, more  
                      than this little room, than this   
                      little life, than this, than this —   

III.  Sphenoid Bone   

I could be Herculean,                                                     you know I could  
           complete these tasks                   if you wanted me to  
                             with all of the              muster, I could be  
            dreams of flying,                           I could try, but once I got   
a door in the face                                               broke my nose that way.  

IV. Parietal Bones (2) 

                   You want to make me into        a backbone but I am just   

                   so tired. Let me rest a while       before you go a knocking.  
V. Temporal Bones (2)  

                   Articulate this:                                  time goes by  

                   I used to be a girl,                            and now there is nothing   

                   now I am hollow,                              I can’t find myself    

                   hoping for peaches,                        wishing for,   

                   crocuses, a teddy bear                  I cut my teeth into a grin,  

                   as big as the moon,                          waiting for you.   
VI. Occipital Bone

             You are: gobbling me up, oozing into my membranes, busting down the door,  

                     certain that I will give—and all I do is bloom—another orchid for you.