Elisa Gabbert and Kathleen Rooney
Lie Still, Little Bottle

Sleep will unshell us, but not yet.
The people along the sand all turn & look one way.
Every other face but yours at the party was a blur.
I like your handsome drugs.
In slumber you sleep, there is no self.
I light small fires for attention.
How many lights do you see?
What is the remedy?
The low-life has lost its appeal.
Helplessly sleeping.
A sickness unto death.
I felt that tiny insane voluptuousness,
the sadistic imagination tends toward mechanical constructions,
I can't go into the meaning of the dream.
I mourn before this great disclosure.
I woke with one of you & dreamed the other.

***

Author's comment: “Lie Still, Little Bottle” is a cento—composed entirely of lines borrowed from other sources, including the poets John Berryman, Robert Frost, Sylvia Plath, Theodor Storm, Joshua Beckman, and John Cotter.

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