Treasure Island

Jeffrey McDaniel

(1967 / Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)

First Person Omniscient

I made her tell me of the affair,
every detail,

and I became him, the man who pulled
her into the closet,

opening the many rooms of her mouth,
knobs spinning,

and then I was her, pulling him
by the tongue

through the river of rooms in the mansion
of my mouth,

his eyes pressing into me, his eye
seeing all,

and then I was the closet, the space
they traveled through

on their way to the mansion, and then the real
I entered the closet,

the wind of doors slamming, bodies
rushing, gone-

my eye lost in the mouth of my pocket,
or is it my hand,

my dirty, awful hand.

Submitted: Thursday, February 14, 2008

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  • Natalie Scibetta (6/30/2008 12:55:00 AM)

    This is my favorite JM poem. It makes me feel so very cold and low. Lol, JM visited my poetry club in HS. It was awesome. He signed my copy of Alibi School. (Report) Reply

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