Invocation: The Third and Fourth Generation of Them That Hate Me
All you need for a piano is a tree
and an elephant. I sit up sick and humming
K381, which means I am like Mozart,
having heard the music once and now
it is in me. Mozart had his harpsichord,
I have my ugly mouth. I whistle
at my plants to make them smarter.
I learn from them that Sistine
is the adjective of Sixtus. I learn from them
that Mozart was atrociously behaved,
and the pope was always angry, and the devil
was always angry, and you can’t make
something flower using force, and the sins
you undertake alone will only turn you coarse.
How difficult to be a rare animal,
the pressure to stay alive. Even colors find
themselves in danger, blue eyes
that should have died out by now,
spare in their occurrence to begin with
but passed on against the odds. This can only
mean it’s common to seek a blue-eyed lover.
Yes, I too have done it. I am, as the Icarus
unveiled at the wax museum, highly
lifelike. I highly like life, though in a faraway
and pent-up manner, in the way of the assassin
pining for the actress. His common
letters I have sat up reading, mouthing out
the worst of them as though
in peaceable worship of a genius teen oh DON’T
YOU MAYBE LIKE ME A LITTLE BIT? YOU MUST
ADMIT IT I AM DIFFERENT.
Natalie Shapero is the author of No Object (Saturnalia, 2013), and her poems have appeared recently in The Awl, Copper Nickel, Pinwheel, TYPO, and elsewhere. She lives in Gambier, OH, where she is a Kenyon Review Fellow.
This week’s Wardrobe Best Dressed was selected Lyric Dunagan. Dunagan is the Development Assistant at the Sundress Academy for the Arts and a graduate of the University of Tennessee. She was awarded the Bain Swiggett Poetry Prize in 2013, and has been published in The Volta’s Evening Will Come. She is currently waiting to hear back from various MFA programs and hopes to begin graduate school in Fall 2014.