A Poem By Kelly Schirmann
The New World
I am deep in the luxury of my mental world
where the world is not what we have created
I am incapable of taking care of myself
so I am incapable of taking care of a child
so I will spend my life alone
with the brunt of my mind
aimed fully at myself
I want to meet one good person
on earth, just walking the street
with no prepared speech
or weapons of emotional exaggeration
It’s no one’s fault
these weapons were created
Objects and the desire for objects
are papering the walls of my luxury
and no breathing can be allowed in
I am breathing
in a marble coffee shop downtown
where the air is sweet with fantasies of money
but not mine
Money is only made by mining
By cutting something out of the ground
before anyone else gets to it
Which is to say / before it matures
People mine their own thoughts
before the thoughts are finished
They are given to the New World
designed to house them
There is no approximation of the sun
though we approximate it with technology
The sweet air is too heavy
with its own fantasy
The marble is a place to lay your head
when the mining becomes too difficult
I am resting and listening
to the youthful voices approximated
and singing as one
To be replaced as they are degraded
like clothing or food
or youth
And to enter the luxurious mind
in the same way
Approximating ritual, or self-love
or anything worthy of our actual
and beautiful selves
Kelly Schirmann is a writer, artist, and musician from Northern California. She is the author of Popular Music, a collection of poems and essays about self and culture. She lives in Portland, Oregon, and at kellyschirmann.com.
The Poetry Section is edited by Mark Bibbins.