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Not Me

Elizabeth Hildreth

What mother thinks her child is an animal? Not me–I write it so it's someone else's.
That someone can love the way it looks on the page, the way it wraps around itself
like a cat in front of a fire. I'm saying "nothing knew."

Like I love what I know like a rock and eat what I love. I've had 2,000 removed this
year. There's one right now, and it looks like an apple, and it's mine. Don't think about

Like I love what I don't know like something that won't last and won't mean but never
eat it. Like an icicle of Sanskrit and string theory. I take it and build something
inappropriate and go by that thing and be something inappropriate. I make a river
around the bathtub and stand by it with you naked and cry. I think about throwing our
children in. I do it loudly so they hear.

Elizabeth Hildreth

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Author Discusses Poems