jocelyn saidenberg



a  S e r v i c e  t o  M e l a n c h o l i a


Was she idle, the one named Obstinacy, or jubilant?
In an unpleasant place sited in air, her friends: Im-
patience, Agony, Inconstancy, Irresolute call her
Unspeakable miseries, precipitation. The one
Named Obstinacy undresses them with their
Crazed toys entangling the wandering mind
Fullness to lie in bed all day, whole
days, dreaming delightless and awake.

The one named Obstinacy flees
From the stiff principles of sorrow and
Burrows into an anatomy of jest, games with
Hostile phrases, frenzies at treachery, and fails.
In an edge of words more giddy than partial
Her appearances, not enough, opt for the deceased.
The Obstinant’s mouth is animated by loss and
Fire, enormous. She frets the future or to die but

O. does not vote, or rather, votes only against
Empire, for meadows blanketed in pollen.
Obstinacy obliterates dullness into vapors
So named between the bridge and the bay
The knife and the throat. Mercy prone to
Similitude. The Obstinates will not cease to beat
Their breasts. Epidemics are made from this
As are places and constellations and meridians.









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