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Thursday, August 24, 2017

Poetry By Meagan Jennett

Meagan Jennett is a self-taught poet who has struggled with depression since childhood.

Meagan Jennett, January 2016
“Lexapro on Ice”

Lexapro---

tastes best over ice with
a splash of Knob Creek
(bourbon, no rye please!)
Baby if it’s cold outside drop it
in a hot toddy or, if you’re really brave,
take it neat
like the Good Old Boys do
behind closed corner office doors.
That’ll really put some hair on your chest.
Oh, and make sure you have some Clonidine on hand!
For when the twitching starts.
In about a week.
Electric jolts and lightning bolts throughout your
Lower 48 Limbs.
Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor
-say that five times fast-
What it feels like to fold your Psyche
safely into a Saran Wrap cocoon.
And now (because life doesn’t feel quite right on Mute)
introduce yourself to
Jack Jim José and Johnny
the Four Horsemen of my
21st Century Soul Apocalypse.
My brothers kept
close at hand should Miss Psyche miss
the danger of a breeze under open wings
and find herself pressing her face up against
                                        the sticky plastic of
                                                  her chemical
                                                              cage.


Poet Meagan Jennett

“Inanna”

I caught myself in the bathroom mirror yesterday,
and saw in the steam-smudged glass
Lillith Inanna.
And my mother.
Who is this body staring back at me?
Where did she come from?

When I was a young girl I used to climb to the top of the tallest tree I could find
and leap,
arms thrown out, eyes turned towards the sun,
spinning into the breeze…
Willing it to catch me and unfurl the wings I believed were somehow glued
to the ridges of my tiny, child-spine.
T3, T5, T7…

My wings must have been faulty though.
Or maybe I was too heavy.
Too solid,
for the air to hold my falling body.

There was always too much of me to catch.
Except for in the fog of a bathroom mirror after a shower.


~Meagan Jennett, February 2016



“Untitled”

I am discovering the edges of myself

Running my tongue along the cool metal spines
of my personal mania

They’re sharp.
Sometimes I bleed.


Meagan Jennett, March 2017



1 comment:

  1. i absolutely love this piece. it is so enchanting and it transfers you to a seperate realm. you write with so much potentioal and it definitely comes out amazing. keep updating

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