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    THOU
    THOU
    THOU
    Ebook166 pages1 hour

    THOU

    By Aisha Sasha John

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    In THOU, Aisha Sasha John knows the day – biblically. What if time itself was an object of desire? And the book was a theatre for that? Aisha Sasha John has a crush on time. Which is why she discipled in it. For three years. Also for three months. Also for three months at 33. Ya. Aisha Sasha John has a crush on time and discipled in time, moving it across her body, watching it, um, course the day. She slowed it down and thought along it, she cut it up. She slowed it down and thunk along it and sped it up. She cut it up and spaced it out and rhythmed it down and laid it flat and looked at it hard. Aisha Sasha John has a crush on time. She did it. She did time. It was gross and funny and it was hard and it was good. The result is/was – THOU.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookThug
    Release dateMar 15, 2014
    ISBN9781771660730
    THOU

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      Book preview

      THOU - Aisha Sasha John

      THOU

      THOU

      Aisha Sasha John

      BookThug · 2014

      FIRST EDITION

      copyright © 204 Aisha Sasha John

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

      The production of this book was made possible through the generous assistance of The Canada Council for the Arts and The Ontario Arts Council.

      LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION

      John, Aisha Sasha, author

      Thou / Aisha Sasha John.

      Poems.

      Issued in print and electronic formats.

      ISBN 978-1-77166-073-0

      I. Title.

      PS8619.O444T46 2014     C811'.6     C2013-908728-1

      PRINTED IN CANADA

      About this book

      Following the successful reception of her first book, The Shining Material, comes Aisha Sasha John’s THOU – a powerful collection of two long, narrative poems exploring the social space that exists between the self and others. Using the language that connects these two states of being, THOU investigates the idea of you – what it is and what it means to say you, the stories we make of our own multiple yous, and by extension, the you an author can make of her own book. Building on the emotionally charged language of John’s previous work, THOU will tantalize readers’ senses, and will provoke comparisons to such acclaimed poets as Anne Carson (especially Glass, Irony and God) and Alice Notley.

      The Beloved

      One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked.

      A voice asked: ‘Who is there?’ He answered: ‘It is I.’

      The voice said: ‘There is no room here for me and thee.’

      The door was shut.

      After a year of solitude and deprivation

      this man returned to the door of the Beloved.

      He knocked.

      A voice from within asked: ‘Who is there?’

      The man said: ‘It is Thou.’

      The door was opened for him.

      – Rumi

      Contents

      Physical.

      The book of you

      Physical.

      I arrived here on Saturday.

      And today it is Monday.

      I don’t understand the skies.

      They’re red –

      Yanni I love them

      but I do not

      know.

      All of the baby lambs. All of the cows. (No cows.)

      I don’t want to be outside. I hate love.

      And

      swollen.

      Today a jinn sat beside me at breakfast.

      I get three wishes.

      A jinn sat to my left at breakfast.

      I composed three wishes

      in a WordPad document

      standing.

      The third was about listening

      to

      my spirit, yours;

      the universe, the animals therein,

      the stars, events and wind;

      to the sun, to waters and steam,

      to the tightness at my right hip, my supple neck,

      to the waves and the recordings,

      to the call to prayer

      above the walk from the resto,

      to the sadnesses before me,

      the inquietude before me, the weakness, the effort I see and the

      industry I’ve met,

      to the attempts to gather my attention and to

      shun me

      and to delight me.

      A French woman living in Casablanca

      a journalist with too much bronzer

      asked if I was from the United States.

      No,

      I said.

      A wave of weakness after I ate the salad.

      In French I said to the head waiter

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