JarsThere are many ways to fill them, so much on this side of sanity that must be kept. ![]() Buttons, of course you think of buttons, coins, Q-tips, bolts, wads of string, ![]() but have you given thought to what should not be preserved? ![]() My brother Sam, for example, would fart his rankest disappointments ![]() into an empty mayonnaise jar and keep it on the mantle ![]() until we young ones returned. "Edgar, I have something for you," ![]() he'd almost sing. A flying headbutt, a body slam, and Edgar ![]() was pinned to the floor, his nose mashed into the open mouth of glass. ![]() Also this: tiny sharks, dismembered fingers, unborn anythings: all the bloated ![]() wonders on a laboratory shelf. If I were a better person I might say love ![]() should never be contained but forgiveness must be kept jarred ![]() on your bedside table where you could find it even when you wished you could not. ![]() I am not that person. I am the one who thinks of toenail clippings and lard, ![]() peaches waxing bluish-brown, the body-juice of bees. ![]() Is it possible that toenails equal love? Lard, forgiveness? ![]() Might the million jars of our world choreograph their own end— ![]() wrenching themselves open at the same exact moment to spew their contents in a whirled ![]() rebellion, the air flocked with all the things we should have thrown away? ![]() I've been told Pandora's box was really a jar, and she herself ![]() made of earth and water, a jar full of the need to open ![]() what the gods had given her— plague, sorrow, poverty ![]() of mind, and the hope that what was to come ![]() could be both binding and boundless. |
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