Poetry |

“The Needle and the Thread”

The Needle and the Thread

 

 

Thread the needle

and feed it through

the girl’s mouth

I will stitch you shut

so you will swallow the truth, she says to herself

 

She wears the father’s story

like a wool coat

She will not believe the mother

She will not open the wings of the coat

to know what is real

 

No one can build a safe home

All homes are safe and unsafe

Eyes may say I never saw you

though they were always open

They saw what they did not see

 

He said he said he said, the girl says

I believe him, she says

I am like him

I am more like him than the others

though he thinks the others are more like him than me

 

I am invisible, the girl says to herself

She says to herself, You aren’t here, I cannot see you

If I cannot see you, I cannot hear you

The mother sits with the father’s can of gasoline

and squeezes an arc towards the front door

 

I live inside a book, the girl says to herself

We are all alive inside a book

That’s what you think, says the front door

Where are your hands?

Where is the needle and thread?

 

Where is the mother? asks the book

Dead, the girl says to herself

Exactly, says the book

Ashes ashes, says the front door

we all burned down

Contributor
Jan Freeman

Jan Freeman is the author of three collections of poetry, most recently Blue Structure (Calypso Editions, 2016). and she is the co-editor of Sisters: An Anthology. A 2020–2022 Associate at the Five College Women’s Studies Research Center, she was the longtime director of Paris Press and now teaches in the MASS MoCA Ekphrastic Poetry Retreeats.

Posted in Poetry

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