Jessica Sidler

Transmutation

I place my hand
on your hand,
my fingers between
your fingers.

We are a ten legged spider.
Our short blunt nails
will tap on waxed linoleum
once sprung.

I flatten my hand,
and we become a fleshy comb,
ready to coax tangles
or tease volumes.

When I fold back my thumb,
we make music,
and I am the face,
and you are every good
boy who does fine.


Process

What I wish:
Me, spotlighted on a dark stage
facing a hushed audience.
In one hand, a sheet of paper.
In the other, gleaming scissors so silver they are white.
Scissors meet paper in a boom of airborne confetti,
the glinting blades beaking here and there.
The bits tumble to the floor.
With trembling hands I stretch before me
a chain of identical girls in silhouetted dresses.
Afterwards, admirers contemplate identity,
gender, and community above cradled flutes.

What is:
2:17 a.m. to 3:45 a.m.:
Me, scratching in Roget’s,
trying to find a new way to say
go.


Jessica Sidler is a poet, painter, and photographer who lives and works in Central Pennsylvania.

 Current Issue:
July 2007

Annabelle Butterworth
Patricia Cook
Joshua Cristiano
Michael Estabrook
Anthony Gee
Taylor Graham
Michael Lee Johnson
Jerry Judge
Stephanie Kemp
Michael Keshigian
Stephanie Kjaerbaek
Brian Mayer
Steve Meador
Jessica Sidler
Karla Ungurean

Home