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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Where Icarus Went” Down in the Dirt v216 (2/24) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Limits of Imagination the Down in the Dirt January - April 2024 issues collection book		get the 422 page January - April 2024 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

A Still-Life Collage of Lost Objects

Jessica Ursell

It’s summer and my mind is
awash in a jumble of silk-
screened memories melting
~ a still-life collage of lost
objects

A broken pine wood chair
Your rumpled unmade bed
Lumpy and layered
quilts worn and frayed

The blackout blanket
awkwardly hung
from your bedroom window
Dark moist walls and two
scarred bureaus
Cramped and crowded
More dank cave than
bedroom

Piled high with indecision
your mountain of papers
Teetering heavily
Everything unstable on that
Large oval
Laden with detritus

Residue of a life ill-spent
Indiscriminate remnants of
old penny savers, classified
ads, unpaid parking tickets,
forgotten adverts of concerts
never seen, crumb-crusted
college course catalogs, a
half-filled bottle of motor oil,
and a creased poster of an
Ecuadorian band

Thinly sliced rectangles
precise and neat in the sink
The single dishwashing
sponge
You took scissors and cut
To reach every crack and
crevice

This small silver sliver of
kitchen
A seaming oasis from the
chaos
Cleaning the glass oatmeal
pot with only one rectangle
No spot omitted

So pristine you were in this
one area amongst the filthy
kitchen sprawl
The regimented rules of your
little metal basin

No way to reconcile this
small sanitized segment
with the bloody meat
drippings splattered in your
freezer

Your mother ten years old
In Berlin hiding from the
Nazis
Oh how you hated her
And your own Jewishness

Sticky floors amid the
peeling paint
Often you went barefoot
On your knees crouched ~
Amongst the grease, grit,
and grime
Curling into a ball

Smoking weed and hiding in
the bathroom during your bar
mitzvah
Slowly realizing the power
you had to inflict such pain
Flexing your muscles to
torment the tormented

Rejecting all of it
Your cocoa-colored curls
long and lank like Jesus
You conceived yourself a
modern-day martyr
Living in squalor
Imagining the rest of the
world swirled in blonde
Nordic splendor

Unable to choose
What to let go and what to
keep
You stayed on the floor
Vainly longing to freeze time

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