Academic journal article Chicago Review


Academic journal article Chicago Review


Article excerpt

Losing I can accept, a long process like mould.

That way I got to know this place in another way,

like seeing the Pleiades from the other side.

It could have been worse, I suppose. I could

never have been here, instead of having been flung

headlong into whatever it is, light breaking over me

and fingertips reaching at me, the old fat guide

picking me up. I'm your granny, she said. And

your mammy, and your pappy, god rest his whatever.

I will call you by your initial letter and you will

live with me catty-corner. You will eat your fingertips

in silence, and everything will resolve itself as if

a plot. She took me home where keyholes made my eyes

lengthen and shrink until soon it was time to leave.

They called it dead-man-time. The prostitutes who had

taken me everywhere with them spat the last seeds

into my mouth and sent me on my way. They tasted

of seasons and the wild gyrations of atoms. Conjecture,

introversion, wild surmise had made up my world

Now I needed new illusions. …

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