a poem by lauren neefe

Unless


I do not want
the Earth and everything
that’s in it

Unless I want
a thing a little more
specific

fur, want ermine
please a burlesque me
in habit

or want for
mortal corsetry, laced
lined, fitted

Unless my want is
jars of piquant mystery
in the fridge

fewer napkins, fewer keys
fewer lockets, fewer peas

Unless the want I
want not tries the heart
I won’t

for sympathy, won’t
pave a road with comfort, no
beat, beat

Ask not me for
favor, love, respect, or change
to pocket

Unless it’s free,
I have no use for virtue,
take it.

full house, a stooping mind,
two pair, or turned-out hips

I lay me down
I wield and own
I give the ground I walk on






Lauren Neefe has an M.A. from the Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins and a Ph.D. in English from Stony Brook University. She is a Romanticist who studies letters and letter writing in the interplay of manuscript and print. Her poems have appeared in Kenning Journal and 1913 and are regularly featured in Emotive Fruition’s poetry-performance collaborations.