A Review of Poetry, Prose, and Art - Summer 2001
What I Want
Poems by Pamela Moore Dionne
What does a woman want?I walked the path along the Limmat today, gloomily asking What is it I want?
Pointless remarks exchanged with a Russian colleague who disregarded my want.
Dulled by innuendo concerning men and women. Knowing remarks about a female
student. I do not meet his eyes. Is this my youth? Can there be any wonder why I want?
This morning Professor Blueler offered to help me publish in the Jahrbuch.
Next step: the Psychoanalytic Society. Give me the excellent moment. It's all I want.
Blueler asks me to send my paper to Dr. Jung. He knows nothing of my friendship
with the good doctor. I crave wax and feather wings, yet find I am devoured by want.
A blush rises to my hairline then blanches away completely. The paper is already
with my friend. Though he is unpredictable, I will not be turned. This is my wont.
What if he calls me Sabina, my pearl, kisses all my fingers and I swoon
into his lips, lost in a mad glow against all reason? What is it I want?