Poetry by Denise Jarrott

Dan 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

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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.

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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.

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Bio: Denise Jarrott is the author of the chapbook Nine Elegies. She grew up in Iowa and currently lives in Brooklyn.

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