RENÉE LEPREAU

THE MOTHERS OF THE WORLD HAVE THEIR OWN CHILDREN TO LOOK AFTER

The shower wall sweats out all the insults I never meant to say

Until with one hand I wipe it absolutely clean

All the knees & elbows that follow me around seem to be singing about confinement

The light on the shampoo bottle is positively dutch

I think next I'll either eat or shimmy

The water is getting lukewarm, & in order to turn it off, I have to reach through
       what I already turned my back on

It's sexier to feel heavy but more spiritual to forget gravity

The toes dream of independence yet in unison they curl, stretch, wiggle, commune
       with socks or the floor

There is something pleasing about the compression of certain items of clothing
       & displeasing about others

You know I cannot stand to have my ribs strangled by a bra

If searched this phrase will elicit many others who share the sentiment

Also reports of women who have been strangled to death with their own bras

The best thing about my body is the general absence of pain

I understand this to be a temporary condition

I love listening to the dogs drink water, as if they know how to stay alive, driven
       by the body's demands

After many concerted hours of laying around, I have come to this at last

At some point I'll have to find a new best thing

I long for rose flavors in everything

Marzipan if ever it could be obtained

We must cease eating almonds immediately

Let's clasp hands, belt out a country song & jump together into the infinite & tranquil
       quarry of renunciation

I backstroke through the afternoon towards some kind of opening

Now that my nails are trimmed I have got to rip into everything