[ time in the veins of someone who turns eggs for a living ]
by Jennifer Watman
from Columbia Poetry Review no. 19
everyday i stand up and the world s yess to me ; sit down!
there’res no room for you’her fcking nothing.
but i da now!
i say i am!
i am and that must b other people who feel.
otherwise there’d be no no thing s.
gertrude can you here me >
can you hear me?
there s cobwebs n the creases f the concrete >
i’m frayed you’ve been painfully misunderstood.
but ya’ll should no that what i love and what i don’t r noe differenet.
televisno says kids are a show so they become n screen.
i say i learn’d to life from the pictures n some laugh.
but there is some truth s in all images, images because to replicate is to say
someone learned ‘t somewhere someone felt.
n how can you say no that s not that happen’d?
i am determined 2 happen even if the world kills.
at least it killed n i lived. at least i fell the truth n becoming.
the truth in remembering those times when we were young n didn’t have
2 take care of sleeves we remember those s better because we didn’ have to
thing most often most ly a feeling like the feeling from falling asleep when
someone else drove and oyu could tell you were moving but it felt like a bath
instead of a marathon.
i have to close my eyes to feel anything now i.
have to close my eyes i.
have to close my eyes i under y.
but if everything s talking n a room i can curl up n corner sleep ng.
s only motion so y can’t i leave r love the birds talking at 2am?
it could be but s nt comforting s scare s me why i have to go back to the
fetus again plum
sweet plum sweet fair s th’air any other way?
speared whide my narrow hands and grabbed no thing.
n an empty bottle n a black room back to the [whitemade] negro cave.
i noe understand why michelle crisis all the time.
i can’t tell if my knees are really wet or just cold.
can’t believe my house s this clean, n my body s this old.
there s a narrow f’air about something that s sour n sweet.
you get the bold st of both extremes.
but this candy‘sas 2 much packaging cloud you tell you weren’t that happy
weren’t that comfortable?
2 long 2 notice on is t’ought it.
(not be honest about it)
you pay eight dollars for something stupiud n the whole thing fell.
n then chris comes n wanting 2 explain and there s no thing 2 b explained.
i’m shame’d either.
you are not you but a lesson in learning people.
y the fuck who’d watch a funeral on tv?
i feel sick.
so when you really like someone wyou don’ know what do you thing
why do you feel’ned 2 talk n deeep perception?
i sat n the couch for a long time n think n there s much 2 say but omen
(none) be s life’that feel s like thin s be—come n from n—other contain, e,
i c’and believe you didn’t wanna kiss r makeout instead of eat!
we had to do something with r teeth.
i feel the need to love and alarming rate.
n i feel the please to speak or say such a thing s now’here.
i do not subscribe to your form of a life that negates me.
not today but tomorrow,
not tomorrow but the day after,
not the day after but the day endured,
not the day endured but the day imagined,
not the day imagined but