A work in progress from two years ago,
now getting some more work.
Comments welcome.
You are the person
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You are the person I am dressing up as.
You are the woman at the hairdresser
and the man on the stage
and the person I want them
to imagine, when they read
my messages.
You are full of pieces of everyone.
You are awake at 4am
talking intensely into a mobile phone
in a bar somewhere in America.
Then you are on your private broomstick,
beaming yourself home and catching a nap
Then you are having breakfast, just
like anyone does, but later
Then you are out, anywhere, clattering,
prancing, gathering your pieces of everyone
taking them back to your secret cauldron
mixing them, making chequered magic
in your stainless-steel kitchen
in your weird old house
with paintings by Dali and murals of yourself
in your big black hat and boots and cloak
with beat poets and musos and lamas and prophets
and incense and alcohol hangin' in the air,
y'know, you
are the person I am dressing up as.
Janet
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Janet Jackson <[log in to unmask]>
Poems at Proximity:
http://www.arach.net.au/~huxtable/janet/proximity.html
"As long as space remains,
as long as sentient beings remain,
until then, may I too remain
and dispel the miseries of the world."
Shantideva
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