ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Emily Pérez is the author of House of Sugar, House of Stone and the chapbooks Backyard Migration Route and Made and Unmade (forthcoming). A CantoMundo fellow, her poems have appeared in journals including Acentos, Poetry, Diode, and Bennington Review. She teaches English and Gender Studies in Denver, where she lives with her husband and sons.
Enough
can the table hold you can the floor hold you can a merchant’s hands hold you up to the light to see a watermark does the bill have a mark does the bill lose value when on the table does the bill lose value lying on the floor what if the floor is covered with dust with soot what if the floor is covered with piss or vomit does the bill lose value lying in the gut or from the gut expelled does the bill lose value if copied if pictured if considered and then pushed aside
when did you lose value when did your body lose value and were you watching when it happened watching from above or from the side from a mirror at an angle where the auteur’s not revealed was there an auteur was there an author a consumer were you pushed aside did you take a picture do you have a picture is there in your mind a picture of yourself and all your curves and corners do you know what it is to be a mass to amass all these moving parts can you see that self can you consider it consider it a thing consumed can you be considerate or careful can you care fully for your self can you hold yourself and all your tabled parts
Once, a friend asked if I feel I am “too much” or “not enough.” As someone who knows me well, she understood that “just right” was not an option —
Once, when a masseuse told me that the table could hold me, her words evoked a powerful, vulnerable sorrow, a realization that I’d long not trusted anything to hold me fully —
Every day my high school students take hundreds of selfies. They know how they look from every angle. Often, they see themselves as objects to be consumed by others, not considering their inherent self-worth —
When my children were born I considered them perfect. I wondered, why I do not consider myself perfect? Why are other adults not perfect? On what day and in what way do we lose value?
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
All contents © the author.
