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              the mind’s eye is
fickle
the earth is one giant
balloon
I experience my determinacy
running away from me—
reality’s pixelation   static
a face in the moon

              I want to say that I love
I want to say that   a table
is not just matter
but a mirror                   withdrawing

                          (Tim1 believes all nouns
are verbs—
                          table: wood-for
                          chair: polypropylene-for
matter: materials-for
                          We are shrink-wrapped
                                         
in reality, he says.)
              What then is body   but a
              trauma-for?
              evenings   the sun sets   producing
              a period   of grayness 
                            would you consider that night
                            or day?   
              would you consider my illnesses
              of the:

            

             (please check one)
                 mind
  body    
                          or  
 spirit
                          would you say
                              my sickness dreams?

 

1 Morton

 

 


Rachel Nagelberg is primarily a fiction writer based out of San Francisco. Recently she began listening to the wondrous albeit often disturbing calls of the poetic form, and has finally found a venue in which to explore sickness and the body with her ever-beloved tools of language and philosophical thought.
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