Leaving the Psychologist: An Abecedarian Ekphrastic
—after Remedios Varo’s Mujer saliendo del psicoanalista
another face has sprouted in my chest
beastly, that’s me, a super freak
cavorting with your skull in my grasp
displaced personalities cannot be cloaked
ever, they will grow like a haunted
fever of wispy hair
gathered in a basket, along with time, a
half-filled vial of poison &
illusions of tick-tock-clocking syringe
just let me explain:
killing myself is not an option
let me try to live with my
multiple personas and their infinite masks, why
not weave them into a poncho
of chartreuse green, grow them,
pouch them, wear them like horns
question my memories, befriend
radical thoughts and nightmares
solemn my specters behind
tenuous doors with intimidating bells
understand the unexplainable, develop
venom as Tilda Swinton couture
when dreams become a snail shell planted
X, marks the spot of this treasure I shall reveal,
yell on a mountain, YES, this is mine, I will
zap my fears—I can face all the faces, darling, of course I can
Copyright © 2025 by Grisel Y. Acosta. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on April 8, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
“The Surrealist painting that inspires this poem—created by [Remedios] Varo three years before her death at the same age I am now—allowed me to conjure the feelings of vulnerability and triumph that therapy blooms; feelings that I consider the strength women carry in their own metaphorical baskets of revolution. I wanted to capture the trippy uncertainty and ultimate elation of such visits. I also feel that the alphabet is a metaphor for the life cycle, so what better form to capture the journey that one enters and leaves within the divine rebellion of honest self-reflection?”
—Grisel Y. Acosta
Grisel Y. Acosta
