Saturday, November 24, 2007

Atypical Mole Syndrome

If I could:

straighten my curly hair
and dye it a different color.
Have laser surgery on my eyes
or get tinted contact lenses.

Get a nose job
and throw in a jaw job too.
Braces to correct
that one crooked tooth.

The moles on my neck removed,
the ones on my arms too.
What the hell, get rid of the ones on my back
and my legs. I always hated them.

Would I stop looking in the mirror
and trying to figure out
which one of you gave me these things?

If by reinventing myself
I could erase them all,
the way she erased me,
could I possibly stop loving them
as irrationally as I do?

Two new biopsies done.
They're painless and quick.
Two less family heirlooms.
Anesthetized, incised,
cauterized and bandaged.

The scars they leave behind
look like faint cigarette burns.
After a while, they fade to white.

3 complaints from ingrates:

Anonymous,  November 25, 2007 at 1:21 PM  

Ahh. Very powerful.

This poem echoes very much an essay I wrote for an anthology that just came out. My piece, "The Puzzle of My Body," is a musing about all my different parts and trying to guess who/what they come from. The book is called "For Keeps" and is edited by Victoria Zackheim, published by Seal Press.

Possum November 26, 2007 at 2:55 AM  


Poss. xxxx

Ungrateful Little Bastard November 27, 2007 at 5:39 PM  

Susan I just googled that book, it looks amazing.

And thank you ((((Possum)))) I know you know.

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