?

Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

plagiarism.

Last year I abstained
this year I devour

without guilt
which is also an art


If my soul was a book, it would be a book of Margaret Atwood's poetry. I own such a book. Thus, I own my soul.

Siren Song

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember.

Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?

I don't enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical

with these two feathery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.


IS / NOT

i

Love is not a profession
genteel or otherwise

sex is not dentistry
the slick filling of aches and cavities

you are not my doctor
you are not my cure,

nobody has that
power, you are merely a fellow/traveler.

Give up on this medical concern,
buttoned, attentive,

permit yourself anger
and permit me mine

which needs neither
your approval nor your surprise

which does not need to be made legal
which is not against a disease

but against you,
which does not need to be understood

or washed or cauterized,
which needs instead

to be said and said.
Permit me the present tense.

ii

I am not a saint or a cripple,
I am not a wound; now I will see
whether I am a coward.

I dispose of my good manners,
you don't have to kiss my wrists.

This is a journey, not a war,
there is no outcome,
I renounce predictions

and aspirins, I resign the future
as I would resign an expired passport:
picture and signature are gone
along with holidays and safe returns.

We're stuck here
on this side of the border
in this country of thumbed streets and stale buildings

where there is nothing spectacular
to see and the weather is ordinary

where love occurs in its pure form only
on the cheaper of the souvenirs

where we must walk slowly,
where we may not get anywhere

or anything, where we keep going,
fighting our ways, our way
not out but through.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
234_am
Mar. 22nd, 2013 07:19 pm (UTC)
<3 atwood. i've read most of her novels but not much poetry.

(i stalked you from TQC, ps)
ladychai
Mar. 22nd, 2013 08:03 pm (UTC)
I read The Handmaid's Tale in high school, but honestly don't remember too much of it. Other than that I haven't read her novels. Some of her essays that I've read are brilliant, though. I remember one on the difference between men and women and I loved it.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

Profile

aprilclownfrown
ladychai
Lady Chai

Latest Month

April 2013
S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
282930    

Page Summary

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Kenn Wislander