Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Patricia Lockwood

THE PINCH

IETSIEPIETSIE

Ik zei hardop ik wil een auto bekladden, voor het eerst. Ik wou ook andere dingen, toevallig genoeg – de dingen die ik wou waren erg specifiek.

Ik keek namelijk de hele dag naar de lichamen. De langs rollende huiden van de politici. Ten gevolge van recente ontwikkelingen kon ik elke porie zien, en vocht in de ooghoeken.

Ik dacht ik wil dat vocht graag veroorzaken.

De voorzitter van het huis van afgevaardigden verscheen, ik dacht ik wil elk plukje baard hardhandig verwijderen van je lichaam.

De adviseur van de president verscheen, ik dacht ik maak je recht als de knie van een Barbie, tot je erbij kraakt.

Dit waren nieuwe gedachten. Vroeger zag ik alleen mezelf voor me: aan flarden gescheurd, tegen de bakplaat gedrukt, tollend aan de punt van een zwaard. Gepeld als een druif voor een spookhuis.

Maar nu gingen de gevoelens de vrije loop. Een ietsiepietsie, ongefilterde, tussen twee vingers, en ze waren verrassend zacht.

Een schaamteloos verlangen om de schildpad op z’n plaats te zetten, hem te verrassen tot hij gaat gillen, de lenzen eruit duwen zodat hij de weg naar school niet meer kan vinden.

Om het pak naad voor naad te scheuren en te verbranden in zo’n blik waarboven daklozen en bendeleden hun handen altijd warmen. In de film.

Waar koop je een honkbalknuppel, vroeg ik.

Bestaat er een winkel die alleen de róde spuitbussen verf verkoopt.

De minister van Onderwijs verscheen, ze klampte zich vast aan haar overdreven aanwijsstokje terwijl ze van Niagara Falls stortte. Dat had ik op de een of andere manier bewerkstelligd, met mijn slimheid.

De minister van Justitie verscheen en ik dacht ik richt de laser en doe je krimpen en plaats je in een modeltreinscenario. Met een hoed met blauwe strepen, en dat zal jouw hel zijn.

De voormalige gouverneur van Arkansas verscheen, ik dacht ik ga op je zitten als op een scheetkussen tot je je laatste pfffffrt hebt gepfffffrt.

De hoofdstrateeg van het Witte Huis verscheen op het scherm, ik zei ik duw je nazimemorabilia door je strot, een voor een, tot je gaat gorgelen. Ik wil dat ze je aantreffen in Eva Brauns bh.

De vicepresident verscheen en ik dacht, wat ik met jou doe zullen ze de Indiana noemen.

Mijn hand trilde, was een vuist, er zat een menselijke vorm in die ik in een schaakstuk had geperst tot het niet meer kon bewegen, niet tegen ons.

Welke ons, mijn ouders hebben op hem gestemd.

Toen ik heel jong was, in het huis met de schommel, liet mijn moeder me op een van de zoete geshampoode Laura’s op wie ze paste babysitten, wier paardenstaart over haar schouder gleed als vers regenwater. Ze weet vast dat ik geen grapje maak, dacht ik roezig, en ik zwaaide de luiertas recht tegen haar bewegende rompje, smak, en verhief mijn stem en zei in de hoek!

Tot ik het zeg!

Dat betekent dat ik het in me heb, of zoiets.

Je moet jezelf leren verdedigen, zei mijn moeder, dus de volgende keer dat mijn broer naar me toe sloop om me het leven zuur te maken duwde ik mijn nagels in zijn onderarm tot de huid bijna brak, en mijn vader zei, ik wist wel dat je gemeen was.

De vrouw van de president stond op het podium en ik dacht, ik graaf jou heel, heel diep in, tot je hoofd een zonnebloem is waar zelfs Kansas niets mee op heeft.

Ik bedacht niets om de echtgenote aan te doen, alles was haar al aangedaan. Haar tanden waren gebroken door het eten van juwelen.

Ik moest zelfs echt huilen toen ik de zoon zag – de ongeregisseerde bewegingen van zijn handen kwamen me zo bekend voor. Ten gevolge van recente ontwikkelingen waren mijn tranen helderder dan normaal.

En de lichamen bleven komen. Het hielp niet meer te denken dat ze ooit baby’s waren geweest, dat als ik ze had gezien ik wel duizenden kietelende vingertoppen was geweest, en niet deze flitsende gereedschapskist vol scherpe objecten.

Ik voelde me alsof ik een tas was gevuld met alles wat kon gebeuren, terwijl om me heen de geschiedenis van binnenkort langs trok.

Toen marcheerde de echtgenoot zelf in beeld, en in mijn hoofd opende zich een enorm geluid, net een schaar, en ik zei ik doe het, ik knip je haar af. Ik til de langste lok op en knip, zal je tot op het dak van je wezen achtervolgen en als de wind door je laatste verstopplaats scheuren. In Amerika kun je alles worden; plots was ik alles, mijn nagels braken de huid van zijn arm. Hij opende zijn mond en ik zei, ik verklaar je gebouw onbewoonbaar wegens ratten. Ik stop je in een bed bij de grens, ik snij je lunch zonder mededogen, ik verwijder het woord big chirurgisch, ik trek je chique kleren strak aan, voorbij roze en blauw tot aan paars toe, ik maak je weer jong, tot op het punt toen je zei ze weet vast dat ik geen grapje maak, ik hou een aansteker bij het geld, ik breek de golfclub op mijn knie, ik til je dochters van je schoot, allemaal, ik laat een duimafdruk achter in al dat goud

Dat zo zacht is, weet je nog

THE PINCH

I said out loud for the first time ever, I want to deface a car. I wanted other things too, as it happened -- the things I wanted were so specific.

You see I was looking at the bodies all day. The unrolling skins of the politicians. Due to recent developments I could see every pore, and a moistness at the corner of the eyes.

I thought I would like to make that moistness.

The speaker of the house came on, I thought I want to forcibly remove every piece of beard from your body.

The counselor to the president came on, I thought I am going to unbend you like a Barbie knee, until you make that creak.

These were new thoughts. Before, it had always been myself that I imagined: slashed to ribbons, pressed to the griddle, spinning on the tip of a sword. Peeled like a grape for a haunted house.

But now the feeling had been let out. A pure pinch between two fingers, and shocking how soft it was.

A brazen desire to deflate the turtle, to surprise him to the point of squealing, to pop the lenses out so he couldn't find his way to school.

To rip the suit off stitch by stitch and burn it in one of those cans that homeless people and gang members are always warming their hands over. In the movies.

Where do you buy baseball bats, I asked.

Is there a store that sells only the red spray paint.

The secretary of education came on, I saw her clinging to an oversized novelty pencil as she went over Niagara Falls. I had somehow engineered this, through my cleverness.

The attorney general came on and I thought I will aim the ray and shrink you down and put you in a model train scenario. In a hat with blue stripes, which will be your hell.

The former governor of Arkansas came on, I thought I will sit on you like a fart cushion until you have bllbbted your last bbblpptdt.

The White House chief strategist came on the screen, I said I will feed you pieces of nazi memorabilia one by one until you start to gurgle. I want them to find you wearing Eva Braun's bra.

The second in command appeared, and I thought, what I do to you, they will name it the Indiana.

My hand was shaking, it was a fist, inside it was the shape of a human being I had squeezed into a chess piece until it could not move, it could not move against us.

What us, my parents voted for him.

When I was very young, in the house with the swing set, my mother put me in charge of one of the sweet shampooed Lauras that she babysat, whose ponytail slid like fresh runoff down one shoulder. I thought hazily, she must know that I mean business, then swung a diaper bag square at her trusting rump, whomp, and raised my voice and said you go sit in time out!

Until I say!

This means I have the seed in me, or something.

You need to learn to defend yourself, my mother told me, and so the next time my brother snuck up to torment me I dug my nails into his forearm until I almost broke the skin, and my father said, I always knew you were nasty.

The first lady stood at the podium and I thought, I will plant you very very deep, until your head is a sunflower even Kansas doesn't like.

The wife I didn't picture doing anything to, it had all been done already. Her teeth were broken from eating jewelry.

The son I actually wept to see -- the unscripted movements of his hands were so familiar. Due to recent developments, my tears were brighter than usual.

Still the bodies continued. It was no longer enough to think they had once been babies, that seeing them I would have become a thousand tickling fingertips and not this flashing kit of sharp things.

I felt myself a sack of what could happen, while all around me flew soon-to-be-history.

Then the husband himself marched onscreen, and a great sound opened in my mind like a pair of scissors, and I said I am going to do it, I am going to cut your hair. I will lift up the longest strand and snip, will chase you to the roof of your own self and slice like the wind through your last hiding place. In America you can be anything, suddenly I was anything, my nails broke the skin of his arm. He opened his mouth and I said, I'm condemning your building for rats. I'm going to put you in a bed at the border, I am going to brutally cut your lunch, I am going to remove the word big from you, surgically, I am going to tighten your silk, past pink and blue to purple, I am going to make you young again, at the moment when you said she must know I mean business, I am going to take a lighter to the money, I am going to snap the golf club on my knee, I am going to lift the daughters off your lap, every one, I am going to leave a thumbprint in all that gold

Which is so soft, remember


Close

THE PINCH

I said out loud for the first time ever, I want to deface a car. I wanted other things too, as it happened -- the things I wanted were so specific.

You see I was looking at the bodies all day. The unrolling skins of the politicians. Due to recent developments I could see every pore, and a moistness at the corner of the eyes.

I thought I would like to make that moistness.

The speaker of the house came on, I thought I want to forcibly remove every piece of beard from your body.

The counselor to the president came on, I thought I am going to unbend you like a Barbie knee, until you make that creak.

These were new thoughts. Before, it had always been myself that I imagined: slashed to ribbons, pressed to the griddle, spinning on the tip of a sword. Peeled like a grape for a haunted house.

But now the feeling had been let out. A pure pinch between two fingers, and shocking how soft it was.

A brazen desire to deflate the turtle, to surprise him to the point of squealing, to pop the lenses out so he couldn't find his way to school.

To rip the suit off stitch by stitch and burn it in one of those cans that homeless people and gang members are always warming their hands over. In the movies.

Where do you buy baseball bats, I asked.

Is there a store that sells only the red spray paint.

The secretary of education came on, I saw her clinging to an oversized novelty pencil as she went over Niagara Falls. I had somehow engineered this, through my cleverness.

The attorney general came on and I thought I will aim the ray and shrink you down and put you in a model train scenario. In a hat with blue stripes, which will be your hell.

The former governor of Arkansas came on, I thought I will sit on you like a fart cushion until you have bllbbted your last bbblpptdt.

The White House chief strategist came on the screen, I said I will feed you pieces of nazi memorabilia one by one until you start to gurgle. I want them to find you wearing Eva Braun's bra.

The second in command appeared, and I thought, what I do to you, they will name it the Indiana.

My hand was shaking, it was a fist, inside it was the shape of a human being I had squeezed into a chess piece until it could not move, it could not move against us.

What us, my parents voted for him.

When I was very young, in the house with the swing set, my mother put me in charge of one of the sweet shampooed Lauras that she babysat, whose ponytail slid like fresh runoff down one shoulder. I thought hazily, she must know that I mean business, then swung a diaper bag square at her trusting rump, whomp, and raised my voice and said you go sit in time out!

Until I say!

This means I have the seed in me, or something.

You need to learn to defend yourself, my mother told me, and so the next time my brother snuck up to torment me I dug my nails into his forearm until I almost broke the skin, and my father said, I always knew you were nasty.

The first lady stood at the podium and I thought, I will plant you very very deep, until your head is a sunflower even Kansas doesn't like.

The wife I didn't picture doing anything to, it had all been done already. Her teeth were broken from eating jewelry.

The son I actually wept to see -- the unscripted movements of his hands were so familiar. Due to recent developments, my tears were brighter than usual.

Still the bodies continued. It was no longer enough to think they had once been babies, that seeing them I would have become a thousand tickling fingertips and not this flashing kit of sharp things.

I felt myself a sack of what could happen, while all around me flew soon-to-be-history.

Then the husband himself marched onscreen, and a great sound opened in my mind like a pair of scissors, and I said I am going to do it, I am going to cut your hair. I will lift up the longest strand and snip, will chase you to the roof of your own self and slice like the wind through your last hiding place. In America you can be anything, suddenly I was anything, my nails broke the skin of his arm. He opened his mouth and I said, I'm condemning your building for rats. I'm going to put you in a bed at the border, I am going to brutally cut your lunch, I am going to remove the word big from you, surgically, I am going to tighten your silk, past pink and blue to purple, I am going to make you young again, at the moment when you said she must know I mean business, I am going to take a lighter to the money, I am going to snap the golf club on my knee, I am going to lift the daughters off your lap, every one, I am going to leave a thumbprint in all that gold

Which is so soft, remember


THE PINCH

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