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Dolly Lemke
I don’t think that I
like John. Imaging people having all kinds of sex. Imagine watery skin
behind synthesis. John is a materialist. What could be better. Gingham button-down blouse is cotton.
Big woman, blousy, puckered, perpendicular. I know she don’t work
on the farm. She could fit inside that box if she tried. A woman is a container
in which you hold. Can grow bodies. Can extract iron from
blood. Can say “I want the twilight anesthetic.” Cannot speak about this again. Can
still grow bodies. Can use cotton to absorb the blood. Can insert
desirable objects. Can grow carcinogens. Can present
dysplastic cells. Can inspect her flower every day. Can carry her
own luggage. Cannot stitch her own lesions. Can make signage with her
eyes. Can make dead in a single stride. Cinching Push the tea kettle off, I hate you so
much. Walk along the thread, stinking red. This is the last
time I wait for distress. This flu has people jamming up the lanes, I
know. But now, Janey has to drive
herself. Deluge right into the contaminant.
Her night vision is taut, she has a slack-jaw
memory. The slightest bump makes unconscious. Go post-it note your
own mirror. Finish up your shift. Let other people drive the
cars. FYI, you may not succeed. They will take away
the movies. No one will speak Portuguese. This is the last time I
wait. A phone call is the least
amount of effort. We cut this safely and
procure all the fragments. Let everything grow deeply so we can stamp out
the pretty things. We could sweep together. We could control these awful little
shallots. When the pantry is stocked. When the draft stays in the
attic. We will be in this place.
We will own the wrinkles and push cuticles back for the sake of
grooming. how she knots it I keep my pennies alive. Keep buttons
and pins and other people’s business cards. Go home at night and look at all my things. put his heel on the rat’s head and killed it Rat is not quiet and seems coy. I slept
with a rat, slow poisoned a rat, called for help. It was large and dead. I killed the
rat. the whole story of the home affairs Abstinence and fainting. Figuring out
what incognito really means. The park has a road that is a road, pavement and social but not to
be tread upon. she used to be hoary The opposite of white this time. however those unhappy flowers are spelt I will make room for the ranunculus,
there are many parts of the ringlets and facets. Simple for the lichen to mock the angel.
You could chart everything by the organization of this tree. Dolly Lemke
is currently pursuing a MFA in Poetry at Columbia College Chicago
where she teaches Composition and works as a Student Advocate. She is
also the Publicity Coordinator at Switchback Books, a small
feminist press based in Chicago. |
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