ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

from censory impulse

Erica Kaufman


first i think i need
to come to terms
with amputation.

envision that shoulder
again again. pool-
side. diving board.

i no longer choose
to write questions.
to notice weather.

to hold her hand.
here. where he is
no longer able

to recline. to find
purpose less than clear.


wavefront a distinct feel
give me visual not grating
not greeting all but real
i see you a place for small
discussion no longer want
to make myself obsolete

take inventory of my body
think of shoulder blades
as gremlins porch side
strong i never want to be
the architect’s wife never
fun to be responsible

think, it’s no longer
a mouth, but a uniform.


the closer to mornings
understand i don’t know
the male of my name

or the work of the work
of her work the first
in a series of colors

i call “you” later
name “her” when i want
to be domestic

when the title calls
for a piano bench
a figure forefront

a holiday common
find a plate in the park


no longer care for any of these characters.  think no one lives.  in paris in the 80’s
when i past born and she adolescent.  when i think again of the amputee.

done looking for inner tubes for camaraderie.  hold myself up.  inhale deep.  hide
prescriptions in my wallet.  bury my hands where i sleep.  as if again behind

counter.  over balanced  tree trunk smooth.  the lantern.  my own self visual
absent.  another woman never heard of.  don’t know what to do with her

body.  yes, body again.  the freckles.  the white of it.  only now understand a
picture of falling.  no longer the box that brings tears.  she used to have things

to say.  i used to have things.  to say.  now in search of equalizing.  accept certain
words. don’t anymore.  in terms of fairness.  choose to write only questions.

so announce a different kind of discourse.  required one-word answers.  or a raft
instead of the old diving board.  a strong camping experience.  full immersion

as far as the “why.”  the thought of an anchor.  play the game with protectors  on.
high frequency behavior.  with a wish to be absent.  i don’t believe.  in the after.