Ego death by Jessie Jones

Poem Title: Ego death Poet Name: Jessie Jones Poem: I never established cities upon quotes or washed  the orange soles of my feet with lanolin soap and olive oil.  I never broke stale bread over my knee or twisted the wine  cork out with my teeth. I loved my teeth. I was born with all  of them and a pearl of bone to make more. I never saw  my own reflection in the startled bog. Never lost  one boot to it. I never guessed at what it might be like  to be saturated with anger, the stench it emits  until it’s bleached or buried. I never reached  into thick bitumen and felt a hand tug me under. I never gave my name  or life to work I deserved. I was never unnerved by shadows,  creaks, thunder; never saw the wonder of symbols.  I would never admit to grief for the dead season  or the beakless sparrow my brother found. Yet here I am.  Long luscious with absence and a fear of everything,  all the words I never dared say aloud now dare  me to hold the skyline of them down: Syzygy. Monica  Vitti. Bogota. Solipsist. To refuse fissure, scintilla, lassitude, yew. End of poem.  Credits: Copyright © Jessie Jones Published in The Fool, icehouse poetry (Goose Lane  Editions), 2020 Jessie Jones is a writer living in Montreal. Her work has appeared in publications across Canada, the US and UK. Her first poetry collection, The Fool, was published by icehouse poetry in Fall 2020.