Born in London in 1970, Joanne Limburg won an Eric Gregory Award for her poetry in 1998, and her first book, Femenismo (Bloodaxe, 2000), was shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best First Collection. “Apart” is a ghazal from Paraphernalia (Bloodaxe, 2007), Joanne’s second collection and a Poetry Book Society Recommendation. She is currently writing The Woman Who Thought Too Much, a memoir about anxiety, OCD and poetry, for Atlantic Books.
He feels he is coming apart;
he screams all thought apart.
New mothers cradle their smiles,
every one playing a part.
A hardening drift of skin
marks the first pulling-apart.
In curtained portions of night,
the women were set apart.
One figure draws us together;
the next one whirls us apart.
What’s that I see in his face?
My own face coming apart?
Read five of Joanne’s earlier poems in Thumbscrew:
Read “Things Exactly As They Are” in the Jewish Quarterly.