Lisa Segal
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Other Writings:   • Metamorphosis: Who Is the Maker? An Artist's Statement • Christina At King Eddy Saloon



HOW THE CLOTHES GET WORN

is that they get sat in
rubbed against
lain in
laid on
spilled upon
walked on
splattered upon
stepped on
cried upon
thrown-up on
dragged
stuffed into small places
agitated
scrubbed
thrown in a basket
or a hamper
or the trunk of a car.
How the clothes get worn is
they don’t land soft.
Well, they do land soft,
but on something sharp.
They get snagged in the garden
by a nail,
snagged by a hook,
snagged by a claw.
They get stored in the off-season
and eaten by moths.
Someone pulls a thread.
How the clothes get worn is
the sun shines on them.
The rain, the hail, the sleet,
the snow, the wind.
Something always batters them.
They march in parades,
they go to work.
They play baseball and slide into first.
They participate in massacres,
revolutions and coups d'états.
They become someone’s favorite
and get worn out.
They become no one’s favorite
and die of broken threads,
crawling into a corner,
saying someone’s name,
someone who will rescue me –
I mean them, the clothes,
this shirt, these jeans, this sweater.
We understand each other.
We are worn
and worn out
by men who turn us inside out,
who rip our sleeves,
who tug and pull at us,
stretch us out of shape,
who cut us into rags
to wash their cars.



Other Writings:   • Metamorphosis: Who Is the Maker? An Artist's Statement • Christina At King Eddy Saloon
© Lisa Segal 2013, web site by studioprimaluce.com