the life-changing magic of old skins

                    by Inam Kang 

                    after Marie Kondo 
​
i walked the worlds full length
in over-sized clockwork, shaved skin
of a brute. over the years, different
deviations and new monsters. then,
i woke up to all the skins running
through my legs and around my
waking effort, terror tying up the ends
of each new beginning. i pull them
out of their past purpose and
send them away, quietly into big
white bags, filling and filling,
crowded consolidation—  
             and crouching near the brush
of this long day’s effort, i place
my hands on each white bag
of my old friends sleeping.
lemon scent and old dust in all
my lungs’ pockets. thank you
to these silly skins--protection
in the locker room, protection
in the hallway, protection in
the framed and stripped windows
of the old lovers. thank you
i say and so sacrifice, so strip
the closet down to hanger-bone,
to my essential forward and
its new definition. thank you,
cloth and stitch and every literal
making, every broad thing i became,
early and late, always pushing me
into today.






​

photo by Joseph Sykes-Burns

Inam Kang is a Pakistani-born poet, student, and curator. His work can be found in Winter Tangerine, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, AAWW'S The Margins, The Breakbeat Poets Vol. 3: Halal If You Hear Me and other journals and anthologies. He is the current Administrative Director of Winter Tangerine Workshops and splits his time working and living between Cleveland and Southeastern Michigan.