Backwards
Janine Canan
Two years ago
you were teaching French
and writing a fairytale,
living in a cottage in the hills
with two cats
and a porch of plants.
Now
your legs are your arms,
your arms are your legs,
your mouth is a hungry penis,
you're growing hair,
wondering if you should have
a sex-change.
When you take a shower,
people say, You're backwards,
aren't you!
Then you step back
into one of your past lives.
What else
becomes of poets
these days?
