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Gorilla face in Crumpled Underwear

You weren't even around when I was born, you pink fetal ear, so don't come around me with that shit no more : You ancestor, you prehuman, they know you in every museum in the world ... I refuse : : you do not predate me

I put you on as : an afterthought is to body. A low thing : : one cannot think of you without shame. You are part of my body, part of my heap of five troubles, part of the strange breeding thinking but even so ... Your brow ridges do not resemble me

Why do you trouble me : Why you give me that folded look ... Underwear, how did you know you'd be sung by a woman imitating : : the voice of everyone's mother. The Rachel of these poems is Eve, remote in stone in Africa, the subject of portraits and conjectures but nobody knows what she was thinking when ... You are postmodern where I am the sun on the block

This poem appears in the 2003 Anthology
View all poems by Gwyn McVay