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Poetry by
Siel Ju
 
Variation of Swing Slow Sweet Chariot by Suchoon Mo

 
'The Thin Edge of my Pride'  2008 DK McDonald
 
'The Thin Edge of my Pride' by
DK McDonald

From The Alice Series

[alice reads]

alice: i am a whale thinking,
spreading over the seat of this chair,
dripping my thighs off the edges.

sometimes alice forgot she was unknown.
she sat stony for her closeup,

small pensive smile on her face,
eyes creeping up to the wall clock.

alice was lost in a bright maze,
without much of a plot,

much for memory.

must the story have a beginning, middle, and end?
and even worse, a climax?
she tried to inject it with a lazy angst.

alice drank her coffee, a book face-down on her lap.
the text crawled leisurely in front of her face.
she licked up the complete works of gertrude stein
in the twinkling of the tea.

on her face alice wore only silence.
stark. scrubbed. shiftless.
each sound left its bloody footprint on her cheek.
it made alice quite hungry.

she stared a cultivated, open-mouthed stare,
glazed and swaddled in scar tissue.
they haven't got much evidence yet, alice reasoned.

alice thought, i'll just see what this bottle does.
ice cubes frozen and cracked neatly at the seams,
ready for a glass and tonic.

to the little vials: i'll break you on my tongue
and hold your juice in my mouth
cool, like genuine sulphur.


'The Thin Edge of my Pride'  2008 DK McDonald
 
'The Thin Edge of my Pride' by
DK McDonald

[alice, naked]

at some point alice gave her body free reign by taking it out of its clothes.
i can't help it, she said. i'm growing.

he said, come then, my pacifist vegetarian.
my cheshire puss.
smile more. show teeth but don't bite.

he spread beneath her just like a star-fish.
she thought, come, it's pleased so far.

to him, she said, you make one quite giddy.

he turned about her axis.
alice was trapped like the lips of an envelope, licked.

in the dark alice stared outside herself.
she cautioned: i advise you to leave off this minute.
yes, that's about the right distance.

alice demanded: eat me. i'm spread out like orange marmalade, tart, sweet and sticky. stop checking for the poison mark.
come. there's no use in crying like that.

if you please, sir, alice said.
you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
i already have a father and there's a reason i don't talk to him.

what goes around comes and she had it coming.
she waited while he came, a traffic hiccup.
her brain rattled in its cage with every horn blast.
alice hummed the soundtrack of her invisible lives.

he: don't grunt.
she: i call it purring.

a grin without a cat.

afterwards: i wish i hadn't cried so much.

 
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last update: February 29, 2008