This is a poem I put together a while back, maybe a year or so ago. I say "put together" in the literal sense. It's made up of clippings from the introduction to "Crush" by Richard Siken. I think I chose to share this first because it's a less personal creation (as far as writers intimacy goes). It's not exactly my words, but it's my arrangement.
"wishbone" needle
you take the form of a river and selflessly; you
Complete the fated certainties with holes and thread,
the lie i need to delay splits in half, delays catastrophe.
apparent abandon of this whole body
Time passes: repeated cycles of ritual fend off A happy ending
The absence of being: human: utterly refreshing!
an absence, the bullet of our own devices.
the means by which, everything is harrowing
and real
the questioning mind, deadly It deserved punishment
purgatorial recklessness of collision in the dark,
tangible, apocalyptic power, like stars
prolonged oblivion Is crucial
the light falling, it writhes and blazes your life is over anyway.
I'm sure you remember, Grab an end
(end)
This is one of stranger poems I've written. There are a lot of words here (purgatorial recklessness, what a phrase!) I wouldn't use regularly. If you've read Richard Siken before, there's a very specific, harrowing tone that his writing has. Anytime I've tried to convince a friend to read "Crush," I tell them the experience of the book feels like standing completely still with your toes on the edge of a nonstop highway. It pulls air from your lungs and folds your ribcage into itself. You have to stop and (especially in the case of You Are Jeff) ask yourself repeatedly what the hell is going on and how in the world did you find yourself in this corner.
I love it! So fun. My favorite poem of his is Scheherazade.
There is an absurd amount I could say about "Crush," but that's a whole monolith on its own. Led by obsession, grief, hopeless devotion-- it's a living thing that you should fear. I've always remembered adoring poetry, but "Crush" is the first collection that created a tangible unrest in me.
I had never done patchwork poetry like this before, and I haven't done it since. This is also the only poem I've made that I haven't gone back to revise. Which for me, is very odd. But I continue to like it as-is.
Thanks for reading this. I hope your day has been great.
Signed,
Mariam
(aug. 22, 2023)
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