corduroy linesman

By | 1 October 2010

for pascAlle ginsbürt


when i was six years old
my mother made a corduroy cover
for my tongue / got me
to stand in front of the mirror
and repeat the word ‘manage’
until saliva had fully impregnated
its cloth ribs

importantly the corduroy was navy blue.

elected king
a fresh stick of charcoal
proposes its use from my bedside table
each morning / i am forced
to draw around my rare foot
onto a white floor
to prove who i am

importantly the charcoal is heart black.

who is i was
briefly inside a photographer
briefly inside my name
i ride the pony / through a biopic
that was an accurate quotation
from the only person in the world
who does not have my name

importantly his name is not mail box red.

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