back toJacket2

Jacket 19 — October 2002   |   # 19  Contents   |   Homepage   |  Catalog   |
This issue of Jacket is a collaboration with Verse magazine

Sarah Fox

Imagining Girls

A difficult display waiting in that very
small room I don’t remember. Movement, like
bodies of a wide field closing vacantly into water.
Blinding down her charming hands
my skin rolled nearly as music.
           As if my eyes would like to be dead.

We woke liberally, different.  
I won’t hum. For dreams the long night opened a sadness.
Merely a kiss? My belly warming by then.
And the difficult prophet stooping
                                                                  (Prepare ye)
, trapped herself            myself
a discontinuous creature, a duplicate of:
silver people, of pity, of merely opposite girls
who minister, reverse loneliness. Merely.
Wild victim!  Collusions!

A great vocation imagines the hectic in a presence.
Cold girls, their wild honey membranes.
Wore white, untie, a gift.
Perching, perching, I’m a flower.
Very sort of wedgelike.

Some currency of mercy stationed politely
along the Jordan River. Jordan. Imaginable daughter —

absent marrow, unquenched. Sheer, it’s impossible to glimpse her!
How translate what’s left in the space of what leaves?
My own daughter: a golden stalk here on the veranda.  
Touch her, she’s precisely here. So many girls!
Deck of cards on fire!
Girls gone missing!  

Look: a spongy wafer breaks its life.
This inarticulate prayer skittering about my chest, my womb.
Our hats were nothing frivolous and despite my sparkle I am also a basket.
Things can grow in me.
Things can grow on me.
There are too many girls here?
Finding my lips but not my beloved.
I can’t swallow a thing!
We will have a garage sale and display our love.
Now the girls are forgotten
, the daughters swell in their own safety.
We are sheer but precisely here, touch us.
I imagine voices in great numbers
and sins clothed in gold, in blue frocks.
I imagine, my love, but you happen to be.
Heaven was made for them.
The low earth finds me again. The low earth.
The low and present belly of the earth.

Jacket 19 — October 2002  Contents page
Select other issues of the magazine from the | Jacket catalog | read about Jacket |
Other links: | top | homepage | bookstores | literary links | internet design |
Copyright Notice: Please respect the fact that this material is copyright. It is made available here without charge for personal use only. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced, or used for any other purpose

This material is copyright © Sarah Fox and Jacket magazine 2002
The URL address of this page is