8.03 / March 2013

Self-portrait at Seven, Seventeen

I

I flick the little banister and cause it to quiver.
I enter the attic and unleash a dust storm.

I fashion a chandelier from tape, half a doily,
and string. I ignore that it drapes onto

the kitchen table and chairs. I contemplate
the dishwasher. I leave it alone. I walk

my fingers up the stairs. I skip through
the wall to the green plastic bedding on which

I place the harvested feast: I arrange four
lemons around a pizza. I come up with a trick

for spelling “Massachusetts.” I believe that
pilgrims and Protestants are all the same, that

they all wear buckled shoes. I know as much
about my family as they know about me, and

possibly more. I forget about the cosmic room
outside the dollhouse window, though I love it

there because of the baby raccoons
I once found and think I’ll find again.

II

I scrounge for five quarters. I examine my
leaky ceiling. I look away from it. I tell myself

not to look at the clock in hopes of getting
some sleep. I give up. I blast some Stravinsky

then turn it back down. I try to video-chat my
grandfather. I try again. I take a Sharpie

and paint “Goal: 84.2” on a napkin. I tape
it to my desk. I sigh. I laugh for sighing. I

re-read my emails. I count my chickens; I count
my blessings. I count the number of days until

the holiday. I delete spam with gusto. I ask
Damaris if she needs any laundry done. I hope

she says no. I borrow quarters. I plan a poem about
contentment. I select “Cottons and Linens.”

I write a poem about uncertainty. I remember
arriving here, handing a one to a girl lying on

the street, finding that she was just
a sleepy student, turning inwards again.


Liv Lansdale has been writing for several years, edited a literary magazine, interned at Baltimore's City Lit Press, and is majoring in creative writing and sustainable development at Columbia University. She been published in Poetry Super Highway's Poet of the Week series, The Broadkill Review, and Writers’ Bloq's Staff Picks, and her work is due to appear in the next issue of The Poydras Review. She currently edits poetry for the Baltimore Review. She was born and raised in Towson, MD.