Daphne Gottlieb

BEAT THE CARNIVAL Pick one heart for all three aims,            a trick the operator does swiftly and easily.          Aim for the lower portion of the heart.                                     Say you were born in October.                Nothing looks like October.                        Watch the operator             between the rungs, not directly on the rungs, pulling himself up with his arms             aiming for the lower portion of the heart.   The trick to winning is to             watch the operator            slow down the trajectory of the heart.                The trick to winning is to             toss high             pick one heart for all three aims                pivot around on a pulley system             with absolutely no spin            burst a heart and win a trinket. The darts are usually dull, the hearts under-inflated and difficult to pop and the best prizes placed on the outside of the board. Choose a heart on the outer edge. The operator will write down his guess             will write down            June July January             will write            on a piece of paper and stick it in his pocket. The operator will toss the heart high            climb the ladder and ring the bell            hit it with a dull dart       stick it in his pocket. You should            choose a heart on the outer edge            between the rungs, not directly on the rungs, pulling yourself up with your arms. Watch the operator climb.             Watch the operator practice            practice the other, more difficult trick              practice bouncing the heart, as you do when you skip rocks.            You will see that he pushes his feet against             the lower portion of the heart. The operator will tell you his guess.            The operator will read your heart.             He will say June July or January.             The operator has terrible writing             says July says June             and             you            you toss high with no spin            you burst a heart            you ring the bell             you say you were born in October.             LE MOT JUSTE There were things in my head. I had a fit. My tongue was a rattle and my spine was a rattle. You were shopping and I was shopping. You were not there. I still have a radio. Currently sixty-five degrees. Coming up soon. The store has a radio. Hangers rattle under fluorescent lights. It must be the discount. It must be the fit. The floor suits me.   Étage Your produce has not been poisoned and my house is always cold. Your fabrics are soft and I do not own any drycleaning. I see your big screen on my small one. We never learned Spanish. Spanish is, we were told, déclassé. The difference between bon marche and boutique. We do not speak of class in America, I will tell you en francais: If you were here, the floor would make you look tall. English/French/Spanish fluorescent/fluorescent/fluorescent.   Asimiento Fluorescent lights induce seizures. Saisies. There were things in my size. I tried them on. I do not speak boutique. They fit me. I have a fit. I have gone to the head of déclassé. The information is declassified. Your air filter hums and I still have a radio. You speak boutique and botox, and Ido not do drugs. We are both perfect. We will both not survive.   Parfait Your feet, my feet. Your ankles, my ankles. Your calf, my calf. Your knee, my knee. Your thigh, my thigh. Perfect: Your thigh, my spider veins. Your tummy, my tummy. Perfect: Your tummy, my beer belly. Perfect. Your spine, my spine. Your shoulders, my shoulders. Your breasts, my breasts. Your hands, my hands. Perfect: Your manicure, my arthritis. Your blood, my blood. Your ears, my loss. Perfect. Your tongue, my tongue. Your teeth, my teeth. Perfect: Your veneer, my cavity, my pockets, my crown, my root canal. Perfect. Your head, my platter. I serve, you, well.   Charcuterie I will tell you en francais: Your meat is not on the pill and my floor is rented. Urgent danger or d’argent. I share, you cher. If you were here, this floor would make you look tall. I fits the flourescent, it tics me off. I listen through my loss to le radio. I see your big screen on my small one.   Main Le main, demand. Your hand, my hand. I see your big screen on my small one. I see myself giving you a bright boutique of saisies. The colère is beautiful. You have heated seats and I drive a hard bargain. You have the heater, I have the furieux. You stand. I lie. You thrive. I fit.       - - - - - -

San Francisco-based Performance Poet Daphne Gottlieb stitches together the ivory tower and the gutter just using her tongue. She is the editor of Fucking Daphne: Mostly True Stories and Fictions and Homewrecker: An Adultery Reader, as well as the author of the poetry books Kissing Dead Girls, Final Girl, Why Things Burn and Pelt, as well as the graphic novel Jokes and the Unconscious with artist Diane DiMassa.