Jen Currin, The Inquisition Yours (Toronto: Coach House Books, 2010): 23-24.
1Genius is the word for I've lost the job
2and my heart is breakfast.
3Cat over moon and step where you please.
4Please--I've applied myself
6It's ordinary to work at what we hate.
7Dust by dust you accumulate a life.
8The proof is running to market
9with a pig under its arm
10balled up like underwear.
11I'm not so gaudy and can't love any better.
12Who will I save next oh let me take a shower.
13No gentler than my father.
14I'm sorry he beat you and I'm sorry I didn't wake.
15But of all the places my brother can be found
16singing in his shrunken coat, I choose
17your temple. Kiss your third eye.
18For hardly ever is it granted so easily.
19With effort, the word is vulnerable.
20If the field must be divided, keep your shoes
21and I'll take the motorcycle.
22We're already more people than we were
23this morning. By that I mean I'm frightened
24of your inner children. Keep calling them puppies
25and you'll starve.
26I'm sorry about your grandmother.
27When we're alone--that's it.
28They kept calling us puppets
29and it only matters now.
RPO poem Editors
Copyright © Jen Currin and used by permission of the poet. Authorization to republish this poem must be obtained from her in writing.