[[!meta title="SURGAM Spring 2011: "Disquietude""]] [[!meta date="2011-05-30T19:53:00"]] [[!meta updated="2011-05-30T19:53:00"]] [[!tag "Every day a little death" Surgam "Surgam Spring 2011"]] The sun is finally out and proud in Toronto, which has seen nothing but sopping wet and cold for what seems like years and years. I'm out in my side-yard, translating the first book of the Republic and watching the ivy bloom—yes, Philos, that self-same ivy made famous in my lascivious LitEx delivered in April of this past semester. There's also a hot latte involved. Basically, heaven.
Disquietude
by Olivia Jackson
i.
each morning you anoint my head with kisses, yet
i am convinced that as you watch me,
with a careful eye,
as i slide beneath myself
you will grow weary, and prematurely old
and your careful eyes will wander
looking for new bodies
to slide beneath.
ii.
i'm nomadic by nature.
inexplicable to all, and especially to me,
i know only that something in me moves me
to feel the need to move.
so it should not surprise you that i cannot stay.
iii.
i am in love with you. holding
your hand in a garden.
trembling terrified i am
naked in your presence
and i am ashamed.
—
Surgam is sponsored in part through the generosity and vision of the fine folks at the Columbia Arts Initiative. This funding is made possible through a generous gift from the Gatsby Charitable Foundation.