Self-Portrait as Faris, “Bare”
Jeff Pearson
she had vain imaginations
they were supposed to agree
to the forms of words,
impersonal repetition, virulent
bred light
she displaced the paragraph lives
she
looked at the vignettes
and read the pseudonyms
recklessly raw, placed together
having been thrown from a wall
emptied silhouettes
bastardly remained
overrun and hollow
with an aimless destiny
created in her image
a scripture
alone, meticulous
a mirror walkthrough as pirate
chasing pre-destined bigotry
linear, cartooned, celestial
skull and cross bones.
she bounds through
ship cemeteries
lipless, tells of
clouds and the sky
teaches
waves to sweep
her outline
takes back
twirled iron hooks
peeled from cherubs
treasure stashes
a pirate company
stricken with strife
cold air
reproved lying next to
what she misses most
patched eyes
the past resists itself
living tissue ornate
fake flag pirouettes
float over ocean graves.