And when I say poem
I mean this thing
I want to write and no other
You will not be so clever
as to resurrect the feathered
the tatty wings of a costumed
angel in my dining room
tatty spatial realm
room where I exist and look at things and eat them
and float nine inches above the floor
and no one else need know
and no other poet
will do
The poet will do
what the poet will do and mime
or maim the poet
meme—in fancy
venue or classroom or focus
group the wings of the poet
relax and warm and shed and oracular
shit out the window in a pile by the side of the road
and the commitment of the poet
to engage, subvert, refract, or remand
is safe in my vagina at last where it belongs.
Copyright Credit: Rebecca Wolff, "And When I Say Poem" from One Morning—. Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Wolff. Reprinted by permission of the author and Wave Books.
Source: One Morning— (Wave Books, 2015)