I walk out to the field of blackbirds          the day the law’s words change     the day men in another state   shallow voices rasping over grass     axe the individual mandate     Strike this paragraph               change it to zero     strike this paragraph          changes in coverage and I trace   red wounds of their wings          hidden among lines     of brome and song     my voice soft and my smile   for men          buried somewhere beneath          my left  rib     I say blackbirds I am sick    what pre-exists          me          has always been the word          laid down by men say blackbirds    they tell me my body is too much    to cover         small bones litter prairie and broken edges     of water   in here   my brown boots and my black tights find a way through to the shallows   of dirt     say blackbirds     what pre-exists me besides moon         under bridge? Besides throat          you are made of? I could make     a tall grass   to cover everyone    fill the mouth   with weeds   I could make these breasts          reveal their red   and the blackbirds scream          my shape back to me