Michelle Mitchell-Foust, '85 |
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Michelle is a winner of the Missouri Arts Council Writers' Biennial Award, a Writers At Work Fellowship, Columbia University's poetry competition, an Academy of American Poets Prize, and the 1996 "Discovery" / The Nation award. A limited edition chapbook version of her poem Poets at Seven was published by Sutton Hoo Press in 1995. A second chapbook, Exile, was published by Sangha Press in 2000. Her chapbook The Marriage Bed of Chang and Eng is forthcoming from Sangha Press. She has written her first novel, Wet Collection, and she is nearing completion of a new poetry collection entitled Imago Mundi. • |
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The Marriage Bed of Chang and Eng for Eng's Wife, Sarah "Love:
a snake with two heads that unceasingly keep watch on each other." |
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I. When one
sees all in
white, white floating one doesn't
see a woman, the truth.
Likewise, the freak * Sarah,
I looked for your dilemma rare,
modest ocean today, between
the sky certainly
none in color, from cumulus
to cirrus, the distinction line at
the horizon, sways
like evening dress Now there's in either
direction. the water
pulls in the air, or famous
conjoined twins, make burned
places * Honestly,
the blessing in my
mother's bowl to
les monstres doubles about
the family twins, Never
said more about
her sister's extra ribs, but there's
no forgetting some words
are like a room, * Maybe
I stopped an anomaly not having
a child yet afraid
of having twins, * We need
a death, now that
we've spent our lives before
the school, Mine took
the shape I sang
with the breathless Borelli girls when my
uncle could only pull The screams
never left him, * It
all depends on this: One of
Petrarch's inaugurals The poet's
father thought when he
pointed to the cathedral frieze like the
myths carved beneath (a woman
riding with one foot dragging, signs
of another answer, signs
of inevitable fire, called
out the same woman's name, But when
one sees all in
white, white hanging filled
white one doesn't
see a woman only, behind
the glass. Likewise, II. No forgetting
Barnum's symmetry
of Chang and Eng, before
a crowd. No forgetting the new
fate: the tiny Siamese girls, No longer
fast to each other, looking
for the sister phantom. * I have
been in love so hard, The Chinese
market before the moon festival for feeding
the hungry ghost, lotus, my friend
shopped those days, and lettuces
she wheeled around the isles, She bought
a Hundred-Year Egg for me, the clay
and ash worn off from the days At the
full moon, I moved the egg and imagined
the joined twins, rhyming
in the Thai custom They invented
ways to sell their eggs III. I wish
I could say and said
I had never seen to make
two sisters' What else
do sisters wear made of skin? * Moon in
the hollowed-out space egg boiling
in water, * Climb
onto me. Chang's had several, Climb
onto me. the kiss
I put in your ear, and the
silvery cold taste of well water * He'd taken
you for and in
the daylight, but it
had moved to IV. Revelation
in progress: your ten-in-one Sarah,
I read a book about the close call, into a
stroke, and his drunken throwing grew tired.
I dreamed you said your back in a dream
like a miscast spell, joined
throapagus at the cornices, and all
the locks among the Dogons, had something
to do with Eve and you
were smiling when you told me. twin gargoyles
stole your peace, No howling
by the door for that long. and threw
the extra ice, like glass V. Did you
marry Marry
the joined twins' Not quite
the fear picturing
his longer bones poised
looming over on the
dark table. The brother's
death * Before
light, answered
Eng's last question the death
sentence. to his
brother until
there's nothing * Sister,
your husband their
secret had exhausted them, wouldn't
open, the God's teeth Long after
the same secret had exhausted you. You hid
their body in the shallow until
their skeleton had long gone VI. Some thousand
nights ago, in your sleeping quarters in a red
ribbon, long veined to the ceiling. and leaned
her body against the fabric breast
bone and chin bone all painful Lovely,
she was tied to nothing, and she
was the blood moving in the show, the one so thoroughly
she was often carried away from the ring You never
wanted Eng more to yourself than then, when the
beams creaked from the slight weight of her, For god's
sake, when you shuddered, ••
I understood I heard
your house its ice
dropping and thawing
already
slipped At the
foot of the pinecone
thawed of the
little ones * I smelled
the sap before
I saw it-- in my
pocket-- dozed
off the idols
of thought and I
asked you--to myself * For some,
discipline For some,
it's adding. Just like
the man putting
on his heavy coat. the frequency * Oh your
great heart- oh your
great green shutter at the
wet window Like the
air the famous
trees in a gesture |
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