By S.J. Pearce
/ Poetry /
Cast on fifteen stitches in tiny yarn:
gauge-one needles, a millimeter thick,
and knit yourself an amulet: a scarf
that you will never finish.
Gauge-one needles, a millimeter thick,
are no threat to aviation security.
But you will never finish;
and through your travels it will protect you.
It’s no threat to aviation security,
so take it with you when you go, where you go
and through your travels it will protect you.
Knit, unknit, rip back, keep knitting.
Take it with you when you go, where you go.
You and no agent will do the unknitting.
Knit, unknit, rip back, keep knitting
until you like it better that way.
You and no gent will do the unknitting
at the checkpoint where points are a threat.
You like it better that way.
Slide the stiches off the needles.
At the checkpoint, a point is a threat.
Tension increases and stitches grow smaller.
Slide the stitches off the needles.
What are you doing? Protecting yourself.
Tension increases and stitches grow smaller
It’s a stranger sitting next to you who asks
what you are doing. Protecting yourself:
Rip back, keep knitting, don’t look up, keep knitting.
It’s stranger, sitting next to you,
knitting always along the way.
Rip back, keep knitting, don’t look up, keep knitting.
Incomplete, it’s always an excuse.
Knitting always along the way, those
short, small, tense, repeating stripes.
Incomplete, there’s always an excuse.
Thousands of repeats to surround your neck.
Short, small, tense, repeating stripes
against constricting questions from the middle seat
Thousands of repeats to surround your neck
and dampen the sound of unwelcome conversation.
Constricting questions about the Middle East:
Loops of yarn form fā’, qāf, mīm, wāw
and dampen the sounds of unwelcomed consonants
in the books that I packed away.
Loops of yarn form qāf, wāw, mīm, yā’,
curling up qawmī, my nation, hidden
in the books that I packed away,
under an English Bible to deflect.
Qawmī, my nation, hidden:
letters in order, in knitted stripes
under an English Bible to deflect
the x-irradiation of blunt needles and Arabic books
Letters in order, in knitted stripes,
then loops slid off needles and words erased
The ex-irradiation of blunt needles and Arabic books:
dark and light, light and dark.
Then: loops slid off needles and words erased
Now everything, add anger
Light and dark, dark and light.
The stripes stack up until you tear them back again.
Now everything is a danger:
they are real and you imagined.
The stripes stack up until you tear them back again,
protecting yourself from false security.
Ephemeral, and you imagined
fifteen stitches cast on in tiny yarn:
Protect yourself from false security
and knit yourself an amulet that you will never finish.