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FURTHER READING
Poems by Jenny Boully
Not Merely Because of the Unknown That Was Stalking Toward Them [But the rocking chair]
Not Merely Because of the Unknown That Was Stalking Toward Them [The Wendy girl]
The more Alice reaches out, the more her dream-rushes
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Jenny Boully, not merely because of the unknown that was stalking towards them
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Not Merely Because of the Unknown That Was Stalking Toward Them [If she lays out two spoons]

 
by Jenny Boully

If she lays out two spoons (two real spoons) and two forks (two real forks), will he come then to take part in a meal that is wholly imaginary? The food was never real, the food was never really real and so to send them to bed without, to send them to bed without a meal, hardly meant anything.

These things may fit inside a thimble: a pinch of salt, a few drops of water, the tip of a woman's ring finger. I will give you a thimble, says Wendy. I will give you a thimble so that you will know the weight of my heart. A thimble may protect against pricks, pin pricks, needle pricks, Tinkerpricks, but not hooks, never hooks. When he stabs his hook into you, you will see that his eyes are the blue of forget-me-nots—but that is Hook and not Peter—Peter who will forget you, whose eyes are the color of vague memories, the color not of sky, but of the semblance of sky, the color of brittle-mindedness, of corpse dressings, of forgetting.

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Audio Clip
July 1, 2008
The Arsenal, Central Park, New York City
From the Academy Audio Archive



Copyright 2008 by Jenny Boully; reprinted by permission of the author.
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