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Jennifer Beetz Nov 2018
I have made a
totem out of
pure want out
of the empty
extended hand
as if my veins
and sinew
are knit
together,
two long and
awful strands
my bones
are the needles
that hold this
thing together
(knit one,
perl one
I am one
dropped stitch
after another)
ha! a sweater
with no holes
for arms or
hands and
not even for
my head
I've sewn myself
together, a straight
jacket and the meat
of me, one long
and continuous
dread
Jennifer Beetz Oct 2018
I am Hegel I am Rilke
I am a bruise wearing
a shoe I am Castaneda
I am Philip Roth I am
what's for dinner I
am the underside
of you
I am Sybil Sheppard
pretending to be Sartre
while De Beauvoir
pretends to be
vichyssoise on a
spoon
I am your Last Great
Chance left to the seat
of your pants, anonymous
parlez vous anything
(You)
I am a pentimento
the umber of your
umbrage all about
me and (you again)
you
I am the Part Three
of your Part Two the
ever growing closet
of not me a bruise
looking for the toe
of a shoe comment
dites vous *******
just *******

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