Forgive me for sounding selfish but
last night I got off at least a dozen times
undisguised and naked, each turning
slowly in unison with the next
in full self-attendance,
facing backwards, lying
sideways, no hands, hands
behind my head, legs
crossed at the ankles.
(How difficult it had become to govern!)
All night I rose and fell,
all morning I billowed and
snapped as if falling
under a spell, a spell I fought
to stay under and get out from under
in turns. Once, at least once,
my tongue tasted God.
Yes, I’m trying to impress you
but mainly, let’s be honest
I’ve never been more
unapologetic in my life.
I’ll get back to being a woman.
But for now I have a body and I cannot
escape from it. Of course
at the same time, I mean
to stay exactly where
I am.
A cento, this poem is composed solely of lines from 17 other poems, detailed below:
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Derrick Brown, “A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me”
-
Leila Mottley, “Love Poem to Oakland”
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Mary Oliver, "Sleeping in the Forest"
-
Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"
-
Tracy Jo Barnwell, "Night City Sunflower"
-
Mary Oliver, "I happened to be standing"
-
Billy Collins, "Languor"
-
Carolyn Forché, "The Colonel"
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Sandra Cisneros, "A Man in My Bed Like Cracker Crumbs"
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Maggie Nelson, "Bluets"
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Cameron Lawrence, "Petit"
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Tina Mozelle Braziel, "Drawl and Hum"
-
Ada Limón, "How to Triumph Like a Girl"
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Joy Kmt, "To whom it may concern:"
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Tess Gallagher, "I Stop writing the poem"
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Anne Sexton, "The Poet of Ignorance"
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Mary Oliver, "I have decided"