Invited • Denise Jarrott

I bought a rose glass, it is mine now I own it

I bought it with money I spent money it is full

of money it is full of rot/


ten boys lined up at the door she has made

a list she invites them in the heart is full

of mold, of leaves, of thickening.


there is a mad genius in the blue spruce tree there is a cat trapped there it is crying it is afraid to go down. the needles


I bought I have sewn myself an image, made

doll made cackles

up the magpie talks


a child voice, the metallic cry


licked the metal licked the boys they are crushing

her she is licking the blood off are we not beasts we are

not beasts are we


lie down with us we lie down with beasts you always

come up as the beast with blue marbles for eyes for

pink marbles for eyes


you bought it with your eyes you bought it why

do you inhabit this place, though

I have smudged, as if sludge


held our bones together as if the sky

melted into your eyes wide eyes a rose

licked stamen licked pollen


salmon pink. sunset finger

grapefruit center. sweet, bitter the beast's eyes,

flash in the head


light. hear you give great head. hear its barely

like a mouth at all. here its barely like you're there

at all but then you're always there aren't you always


there just there, always there though I did not welcome you.


by Denise Jarrott, from NYMPH