autobiography

of myth & women (of me, i mean)

the goddess of mistaken identity
invented the mirror
claimed it gave her
clarity
focus
perspective
· · ·
she lied
· · ·
but her beauty
is new
& it is
her own only
truth
· · ·
she is sleek glossy
pale preoccupied fearful &
not free
· · ·
victim
princess
sorceress
nemesis
albatross
bitch
· · ·
companion burden
scapegoat misfit
instigator martyr
· · ·
a sacrificial visionary & a
danger to society in spite of her
relatively infinite insignificance
· · ·
she is cynical habitual
illogical indifferent inconsistent
& believes exclusively in
impossibility
· · ·
she begins
her soliloquy
as if it matters,
impassioned:
· · ·
“there are
seven circles”,
she cries,
“which one
is this?”
· · ·
she is unanswered ranting
reclusive obsessive impulsive
hysterical lyrical
· · ·
her precarious stance & her
stubborn ambivalence are her
only sources of continuity &/or stability
& amidst all of this
deliberate nonsense, her
survival is evidently
unintentional & any
appearance of
wholeness is
purely physical
· · ·
her body is
an open book
& any man
of letters
or science
or fiction
may know her biblically
wicked hunger
(an addiction)
· · ·
fallen woman
with & without
child, wounded &
wanton & haunted &
hunted
wild
· · ·
inside is
the outlaw,
a criminal in her
element
desperate reckless
beguiling & sly
· · ·
she offers an excess of
complexity so she can be
misunderstood &
as a result remain
alone unknown & as such
much maligned
· · ·
always also she is
malingering in
love in the
inane & profound
isolation in which
she is sovereign
abandoned profane serene &
substantially less than
sane
· · ·
she performs portrays
pretends poses &
plays her part gamely &
then
in an uncharacteristic outburst of
extemporaneous honesty
reveals herself as
the villainess of
this piece,
· · ·
a paradox:
· · ·
she is, she says,
no goddess
· · ·
she is, she confesses,
just the mistress
of misogyny
· · ·

(me)
17MAR97

4 thoughts on “autobiography

  1. you rock, feck.
    when i grow up (someday…but not too soon, k?) i want to be just like you.
    heck, feck, i want to be you.

    how’s that for attention? 🙂

    seriously, i love that your prose knows no boundaries.

  2. so, right now i’m here at work, on my second enormo-fosters, smoking vanilla cigarettes & figuring out how to balance the lotto account.

    not sure what this has to do with anything, other than … um, i don’t know.

    where was i?

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