11/3/2017 Poetry by Denise JarrottDan Finnen CABINET I wanted to live a curious life, said the serious young woman she wanted to place her life in a place that appeared to extend further than glass could reach. To place a doll, perhaps or another figure, between two facing mirrors so that perhaps it could go on forever. Reach up into the between space of the then and the now. A curio: a figure a figuring of. a finger. touch the place where the two panes touch. It is with seriousness that I tell you that it is not without pain that I write these words, it is not without suffering that one should find their way to pleasure. Suffer me to live a little longer here, be- witched in the between CABINET HELLO MISTER the doll quivered. The audience laughed and looked in. A shiver overtook them, the organism the figure, the face which did not move, the taste of blood in the liver, the organ. I have given my life to curiosity she said, such a serious young woman, such a fascinating and simple creature. Take a look in, if that’s your pleasure. Such a debt we have to the entertainer. Take a bow, why don’t you for this is the only love you will know. Curio: a knife that splits in the center, for a laugh or a gasp a second too long and they’ll think you’ve breathed your last. Emerge from the top of the escalator. Prestidigitator, today is your birthday, what a shame that you could die today, what a sham, this curious life. CABINET Tomorrow we reap, we count the dollars, sliding a few down our shirtsleeves. For a trip, for a few acquisitions to the curio. The serious young woman takes a final bow. The sun touches everything, even the body all night under the feral moon. Tonight is the night to find out what the cabinet holds in its clutches. Curio: a bone, a strand of hair from a saint or a harlot. Curious as to where it belongs, and where it might be returned. I want to live a curious life, but to do so you must be alone. To do so you must hide it all in an image, to do so you must fly. Levitate, entertainer, so that we may see what it is you hide. Some say the devil dealt you a hand, you pulled a hand that did not exist. The doll points to the back of the stage, utters a number and descends. ![]() Bio: Denise Jarrott is the author of the chapbook Nine Elegies. She grew up in Iowa and currently lives in Brooklyn. Comments are closed.
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