~ALLISON JOSEPH~
LITTLE
EPIPHANIES
The difference between what’s required
and what’s desired is the difference
between the chocolate and the cake,
the car and the new car smell, the nightie
and the night. There’s so much I want
to twist round my fingers, to stroke
and stir, sketch and stretch, but so much
I should sweep and scrub, strip
and sterilize. But I’d rather wring dirt
from my pores, turn it to ink instead,
rather scurry to my driveway to study
the moon’s abrupt phrases than kneel
with bucket and mop to banish shadows
that have sprung up on my kitchen
floor, darkening my soles as if I were
anointed, a kind of low-rent henna
for the lazy and uninhibited.
I should keep the unmentionables
unmentioned, nudity prohibited,
purses to a minimum, but I thrive
on clutter—my gaudy bras and bags
of yarn, my malfunctioning pens,
last chance reams of slightly damaged
paper. The difference between what’s whole
and what’s held, what’s withheld
or revealed, what’s real and what’s
revelation—that’s what I seek,
rest of my life spent in search
of little epiphanies, tiny sparks surging
out of the brain during the clumsiest speech.
© by Allison Joseph
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