Jack Meriwether

(b. 1992)
is a poet and performance artist from Ohio currently living in Brooklyn, New York.

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I stole a timepiece





I’m situated now inside the evening

I carry two cold beers in my plastic grocery sac

It feels amniotic and sane

My clogs charging down into the floor of the train platform

Like a statement or a photograph





Last night I dreamt about jumping into the swimming pool

It seemed

I dove in so as to change the subject, like:

See you never!

Only problem was the water was a thick sort of gelatin

I went in deeper than I’d meant to

And it took all my strength to raise my body up

Into the air again

And that’s ultimately what woke me, my scalp

Breaking thru the layer of film on top





On the train the person applies cocoa butter over themself

Dutifully, untwisting the jar

Like a secret out of their backpack

And scooping out a pat of cream

Between their index and ring fingers

Holding it there in a position of medical readiness

In a sort of saintly style meaning christ be with you! Or

Peace be with you!




Leaving the house this afternoon was the easiest lie

I did not know how I wanted to look

And still don’t

I was wearing an outfit and thinking not too many thoughts

My biggest influences right now are survival and clowns

I am sure that I look much more normal than I feel

And can be understood much easier

Than I would like





In the pharmacy the woman greets me from behind her curtain of makeup

She asks me how long have I been in transition?

Well

My whole life I guess!

The stubbly terrain of her chin pasted over with tint

Like a stucco wall

Her cheek powdered in crushed rose

In all the wrong places

Their pigments so ground-down and forgotten





She tells me she’s been on E since december and I congratulate her

Because what else to say

There’s delicate discrepancy to being kindred in the pharmacy with her

I am foreclosed with a kind of chilly guilt

We take our vials from the woman behind the counter and scurry away





September is like this, suddenly cold and determined

I no longer know what kind of person it is

I am aiming for

When I meet myself in the mirror





Someone near Astor place

Is having a moment with themself

In the mirror in a scantily lit room

Above the blue man group theater





They are a stillness I’d like to emulate

I imagine

They are choreographing a dance of some kind

And I think

Well if I danced every day I too could be afforded

Such ceremony





I stole a timepiece from the target on avenue A

Its despicable

All the corners turning stainless steel and clean

The people go under ground and scour the shelves

For the prettiest-looking foods and wares





I stole a timepiece

And I am putting it together now

I am putting it all together

The night before everything happens





The timepiece

It has to blare loud enough

Such that it will wake me from my slumber, when I need it to

So I can get to work on time

Even if

Even if the dew sticks to my eyelids