By Jennifer Clarvoe
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Jennifer Clarvoe’s moment booklet, Counter-Amores, wrestles with and opposed to love. The poems within the name sequence speak again to Ovid’s Amores, and, in speaking again, take cost, take satisfaction, and take revenge. They recommend that we find what we like via struggling with, via bringing our offended, hungry, imperfect selves into the conflict.
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Extra resources for Counter-amores
The dream was true— the test already begun, testing that never stops. That look is what he kissed her for, her lips— 29 he laughs when he tells this part of the story later— her lips clenched shut. (The nights she’d stayed working to give back the words he’d say. ) I can tell you this. No bat ever wasted time on wondering what it was like to be a human. 30 Mortal Coil I started to write a poem called “Skin,” about skin— about snakes, snakeskins out in the toolshed: shed vellum, opalescent. I touched them.
How can it possibly be done? —Sigmund Freud 1. My name is Jenny Scott; I found my end at the Textile Museum, on Embassy Row, on S. Street. What my father didn’t know couldn’t hurt me. What the government didn’t know could hurt him. What is kind in institutions is impersonal, also, what is cruel. Marriage is all it is cracked up to be. The carousel down on the Mall will stand still for a price. I never got to ride the jeweled horse. ” And I learned to dye. I miss my arts and crafts lessons, release and discipline combined, their steadiness.
Oh, how deaf to the future it can’t hear despite its chuff and chirr. Like the skyscraper’s rise, false enterprise, because torqued by undermining imposture, it is the fault of weak disenchantment. It is like the shovel mouth slowed by dirt; the future’s why; it’s a foolish consistency. 26 It slobbers buckets, slobbers the remorse, the bruise, the heart oozes from its guts—if the heart has guts; it has to start ejection. It’s ash in the shovel-mouth’s sludge; in the drudging persistences of the sacked city.
Counter-amores by Jennifer Clarvoe