The Meaning of “Tele”

By Rebecca N. McKinnon

Stories sticky as Elmer's, pasted permanent

and loud LOUD, closing some gaps yes,

but at the expense of other ones opening

I want you to know the second person's

one step away from guilt and

always the blameless compliment

the same imagination

that condemns the very child to suffer

nameless dread in darkness

every night, my terror—

Ah, but it's all flashes now, isn't it?

Something for me to say at parties,

answering the call

of some card game

It was that one scene from The Shining!

I shout, having lost

myself purposefully

running around myself

to see more of myself

So much I have forgiven

only needs a bleak winter

to be faulted once more

Every day in life makes me laugh

more and more

until I'm nothing but teeth

So look alive in your pretty

dress, pretending

you're not dead

Meanwhile I'm not a child anymore,

barely was when I was

Also I'm on the way with my ax,

and I'll play with you

for a price no, no,

No, it was that one scene from The Last of the Mohicans!

I correct myself, my own face painted,

after all, and ready to die

Why ask why, why understand at all

It's a sickness, trying to

and changing my mind in the end

Repressing real terrors

for the benefit of acquaintances

Although who doesn't deserve

an evening of enjoyment?

I was taught abhorrence

as a prerequisite for admiration, after all

Duncan's choice to ascend in flame so then

represents the horror and

honor of all good men

Now I get too close to the fires

I am tending, looking for something within

their heat so painful as to be intimate

Now I understand the complexity

of each fear that inhabits such flames

I see now in Duncan

destiny choosing him, and him

without choice

I see now in me why I'll choose you

after the party, despite

everything

Does even the phoenix regret

what it was born to do?

Does the surprise of doubt

overtake the pain of burning?

Does everything that mean anything

travel away from self in sooty plumes?

Goodness, dignity, at last

Integrity—

all tied up and writhing

wishing for a way to live

or an easier way to die

Even the radically honest

look in mirrors with nothing to say

We need others to invent ourselves

but our souls are mansions

inherited from another

We're all trapped

Me? Remember, I told you

I haven't stopped

smiling for years

You touched me when I wrote

we're never alone

over and over and over,

your interpretation kinder

than my intention

We're in the same boat yes,

that's sinking, actually

and cling to each other not because we care

Catch me on the right day I'll carry you

Catch me on the wrong day I'll drown you

Catch me in my nightmares I'll humor you—

old enough to recognize a specter

of my own creation when I see it