[poetry month] "You Know Something Wrong By Its Difference From Something Right" by Kate Schapira


YOU KNOW SOMETHING WRONG BY ITS DIFFERENCE FROM SOMETHING RIGHT

In this portrait, I failed and it fit
me like a hollow twin.
In that stale apartment
I deflated.
In reduced circumstances
less and less happens.


Scissors on the table.
What do they do there?
Where is their strong word? In


a settle of disrepair. Anything caught
in creases stays there.


Having made others do it
I didn’t even invent being old.
Objects ranged at hand
from tissues to the phone


in the wrong order.
A big-lensed wait. A lax chin.
The skin fit. I nailed it up.

— Kate Schapira, from Handbook for Hands that Alter As We Hold Them Out, Horse Less Press, 2016.

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