I have one of those removable complexions. I molt blonde hair, shed my automatic teeth and discard my mechanical eye. I am older than hieroglyphics; I gain every lap. I walk the plank, pearls in my heels, swirling like Ophelia’s resentful drain. I accent like a […]
I can’t hunger a normal hunger. I watch in October the light which never fills but falls on the flat black oil spill outside the […]
My nightgown is made of almost paper I wish I could have used the shovel more gracefully because now the nightgown is covered in dirt and I will have to rip it off me like a ribbon ripping when it gives in to the ripping because it is […]
I. I’m an unsmall rabbit at dusk under the pine tree. The moon is not out but I do not know the moon anyway. As the light fades I find a good blossom. II. I am a serpent-head fish on the table of a small house […]