II And in this plush chair of the Bishop's office i sit a decade And a half later--a Salem witch of the west explaining her Dull, trembling self before three Mormon men bending above me. But you don't understand me, as if anyone ever has. i had psychic abilities. But you don't want them, so they're Gone; And i'm good. i no longer believe, Bish'y, that I saw Benson Dying And Yourself rising above the Twelve. But You're still scared of me. You only want to anoint me And cast me out. You only want me to hide in a barn, And belong to shadows. You call my abilities a possession of a demon. Papa doubted i could see; and you see me as perverted. But you do see that i see... That i have something with some power. You and the Missionaries lay your hands on me... me who left my Protestant roots so as to be rooted in your Family. You put your cold hands on my forehead, Trying to vacuum out my psychic abilities, Which i tell you are no longer-- Trying to take away my saying that i'm okay... i'm good. Speak to me. Don't cast me out and leave. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Where, Oh Where, Did The Mall-Lady Go? They wanted her to drop her thoughts As naturally as her underpants fell, after they were Over the hips, so the steaming winds of her daily showers Could clear her of encroaching stain As she had been cleared away. They were a function, ignorant of their thinking, charting Charts. She felt she would have to ignore these doctors and Nurses in the mental ward. She would have to ignore the pacing patients Asking cigarettes from her. The hall was rectangular. Everyone moved rectangularly. She would go to dreams of past realities Where she was watching the shoppers' reflections As they passed mall's little fountains-- Different types of people-reflections but all silvery In the still of the waters, Happy and part of the lives of the mall. She would imagine herself sitting on a metal bench-- packages of her new clothing pulling on arms and chest Like the recalling torpor that came more easily To her lower legs; the weight of the mink that arched Her aching shoulders more like a lady; And a small sack of chocolate stars Touching her upper neck-- Wondering what packages her fellow-creatures Bought to be brought home and to whom They brought them to. And then, as the locks of solitude clicked in her consciousness, Came the wondering of where, oh where, Did the Mall-Lady go? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Savior-Searcher In The Bible-Belt I can see you in those dry moments, then As clearly as if I were there: staring at the cracks Of the white ceiling above the bedpost, wondering if You will slip down three flights to the outer darkness