sweater-woman wake-up, the hours only count together.
each night a stutter, first syllable of fear
endlessly repeats. Cowardly hour over
again, bellowing of veins. So hot.
Never had my head held such a sea, I said
that was before, and now, after, it sloshes like a soggy god.
Who am I that I am so hot and wet, am I a man?
Am I in the drowning pool, not drowning and condemned?
Am I at fault for starving, for vomiting from ink?
Am I a monster?
Have I cursed the cows?
Am I bad to my sisters in the town, am I a bad cat owner?
Did I do the dishes wrong?
Yes, I have wronged them, and all the folk, and my sweater is a curse
a pox upon me, clog the toilet, a cold and dry hermaphrodite, poor, loser, nerd, wake-up
sweater-woman, you've been worrying.
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