Aliki Caloyeras

I brought the book but not the pen
My lines are unruly
My body cannot hold
I cannot contain
Men for thousands of years have said what a poem is--
who am I to say
any different?
This is how I was made
They made me
but not in their form
no not in their form
My body
My body
I strip myself bare
My lines laid bare
I write myself
I rewrite myself
without a pen
I have no implement
I undress again
and again
I express
and express
I am excessive in my expression
And I am nothing
I’m all
All arms and legs
hips and thighs
breasts and belly and cunt
skin for days
all head
I can’t
I can
I go on
To excess--Outside
my form
My form
is informed
I am here to inform you
I inform you of my intent
I’m dissatisfied
when satisfaction is not mine
Sufficiency is not mine
Adequacy is not mine
I just don’t rhyme
My turns turn out off
My feet fall out of step
I stumble
outside the bounds
My body can’t contain me
My skin
My skin
My book is open
I’m an open book
It’s written
and I’m written
I am open
and opening
Do you read?
I’m illegible
and perpetual
I want too much
I ask for it
More than my share
I am a bottomless pit
boundless
amorphous
I am askew
I’m all askew
Uneasy
I’m Easy
I cross lines
all the time