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Self-diagnosis

None of my exes had a dog. I can’t watch

television alone. I am unkind

with the weekend, never quite respecting

its luster. I prefer to get drunk

on a Tuesday. At all times, I am one tooth away

from a locked jaw, one ring

away from a married woman, one accent

away from a movie career. If I don’t leave

the lamp on, I can’t write. I quit

my job this year and now instead of trembling

at the sight of my boss, I shiver before

myself. If I dare put on a pair of business

casual trousers, my skin digs out the bones

I never picked. I am, I am, I am. I fall asleep

clutching these symptoms like teddy bears.





 

Maria Giesbrecht

Maria Giesbrecht is a poet based in Guelph, Ontario. Her work has previously been published in Contemporary Verse 2, Talon Review, samfiftyfour, Gyroscope, and elsewhere and is forthcoming in Canadian Literature and Queen's Quarterly. She hosts the virtual writing table, Gather, and can be found at www.mariagiesbrecht.com or @theguelphpoet on Instagram.

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