Eileen Myles

BOMB Magazine - - CONTENTS - Eileen Myles

Some­thing un­earthly about to­day so I buy a Diet Coke & a news­pa­per a ver­sion of “me” some­thing about me on the earth & its sneak­ers & feel­ing like the earth’s fur­ni­ture but that can’t be true or like the coke & the Times it’s true for a lit­tle while. I’m not the earth’s fur­ni­ture not en­tirely & I seem to want to go about this in the en­tirely wrong way. My face asks the man at the deli do you know me & he clearly didn’t an­swer me enough I’ll get this I said pick­ing up the pa­per hop­ing that he just might know me a lit­tle bit more but not enough to make me feel ab so­lutely true. I’m just not true enough so it’s prob­a­bly the weather an over-ripe Septem­ber & we’re agree­ing that the win­ter will prob­a­bly be pretty cold. That feels good & true I thought talk­ing to Jill who is my trainer. She shows me what to do & I feel a lit­tle bet­ter af­ter that and I thought I don’t want to be like that poet I thought he’s just like a pris­oner of the planet & that’s what’s sad about him. I could say un­like me who is like a tem­po­rary chair but I’m ac­tu­ally what’s on the chair. I’m us­ing this pen on a pur­ple notebook set up on the an­gle of my thighs. My thighs. I’ve had you since I was a kid. I’ve known you for so long. Even when you be­trayed me in the bath­tub one night when you were rab­bits but that’s cause I was go­ing crazy. Is it crazy to be the citizen who’s only par­tially here. Like kiss­ing while your eyes anx­iously are sur­vey­ing the room. Kiss­ing at a party but there’s no­body there but this per­son with not so many char­ac­ter­is­tics and she will list them so she can con­tinue writ­ing. That’s what I like about this act. The sea of blood & con­scious­ness & barely re­pressed crazi­ness that’s singing in my ears only likes one thing al­ways like her fa­vorite food. The gulls in my head can do what­ever they want

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