Jane. Maggie Nelson

have been juggled about, so

      it’s hard now to figure out

      who was messy, who was neat

      who awkward, who popular.

      Barb remembers wearing a patch over her eye

      at age five, having braces, and being deeply sick

      with rheumatic fever, so of course she thinks

      Jane was much cuter, with her freckles

      and fresh row of bangs. But their father maintains

      Jane was wildly jealous of Barb’s social ease, her lanky body.

      Barb remembers trying to steal Jane’s friends, writing her name

      on every page of Jane’s journal, and hating her sister so much

      she often imagined smothering her to death with a pillow.

       (JANUARY 20, 1960)

      Right now I hate my sister so.

      There is no sense of unison or understanding between us.

      I hate her so much.

      She is sarcastic, spiteful, snobby, snippy, and her whole attitude

      is one of being better than I. I know that she is and perhaps I am

      jealous, but I have no companionship with her any longer.

      Jealousy is a funny thing. I am jealous of Barb’s fun, dates, looks, assurance, way with parents, clothes, charm, age, etc. Yet it’s something hard to understand. I am not always jealous or always envious but just sometimes I want to have and be like her so badly that I could cry. It’s a shame for she deserves what she possesses and certainly should have it.

      If she hates me that’s OK. But I would give my life for her and she doesn’t care whether I live or die.

      I wish we could go to Florida. Maybe being together and having fun would help.

       SLOGANS

      My grandmother’s house was full of slogans—