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February 14, 2008


Suspended like moon phases, sliced and strung-up
on a crooked wire, the blurry bones hung.
I wanted to be left alone

with the round warble of the negative,
pressing it, as he did–with a snap–
to the square, backlit, nowhere. He talked

of a naturally bowed head. I saw
the bent neck of an egret, gazing before
its feet in the mud, toward survival.

Pinching the tendons below my chin, he
softly joked that open books had bent my bones
in subjugation. But, in the clicking dial

of the goniometer I heard instead
the limitations of her half-century, tied to him,
as hunched Narcissus to the unloving pond’s edge.

One Comment leave one →
  1. February 22, 2008 6:18 am

    I just had a startling moment of clarity with this one. I had really enjoyed it before, but it now makes logical sense to me and I love it even more.

    To me its like this:

    You go to the doctor and he takes x-rays, noting that you have scoliosis and he needs to see it more detail. He views them together on the wall and comments on the fact that its bad enough to where you have a ‘naturally bowed head’. The next lines, on the egret, to me strike an almost psychiatric nerve – they are ink-blots. The doctor jokes at you regarding your reading habits being the root cause. You, inwardly, comment that it was perhaps being tied so tightly to a low and loveless man for so long (I had originally leaned more to Narcissus and vanity being the thought causes). With that the therapy session is over.

    In short – a very well articulated piece. I really love the whole idea. Good Work!

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