Two Poems by Jennifer Bartlett
now, wife, get in your little boat and row and row away into sleep remember, the tales insist upon including a ghost and a body of water but since they are a translation we don't know what they insist upon really I want and want and this wanting is a trap if you tried and failed in your mission little one to which japan declines any response other than silence so that, every gesture was calculated with longing the integrity of this body is beyond doubt we never believed for a moment that you were or could be guilty
gesture(s) toward the street movement is toward and away gestures to (ward) and away these are motions that we cannot speak aloud I cannot read you the text is a second language says, gestures toward the street looks at, looks toward, glances into says, we make up the rules as we go along
Jennifer Bartlett was a 2005 New York Foundation for the Arts Fellow. Her recent collections include Anti-Autobiography: A Chapbook Designed by Andrea Baker (Saint Elizabeth Street/Youth-in-Asia Press 2010) and (a) lullaby without any music (Chax 2011). She recently co-edited, with Sheila Black and Michael Northen, Beauty is a Verb: The New Disability Poets.