Dancing Ladies

Moving     conveyor belt trapped onward tight and secure     sure      so we hoped          roped    into a misty tunnel     my...

Of Bedheaded Boys and Lavender Shampoo

Shampoo. The word is vaguely obscene. Sham + poo :these hardly sound like substances that, combined, could render one clean. Sonically, shampoo does not present as a hygienic herbal solution bottled in a shower stall. Instead, its syllables tell of a darker substance...

Baked Alaska and If the Shoe Fits

Baked Alaska Febrile as baked Alaska, I’ve grown over-heated from tilling the magnetic fields. Of course, I don’t expect the dead to remember me. I don’t tan, I grey.  Look, you can listen to all the confetti music you want, but to the illicit organ trade, it’s all...

When There’s Nothing Left to Burn

When I am thirty-two, I fall in love with a man who thinks I am his. Our house is made of wood—the walls, the stairs, the Christmas tree. Everything is on fire; pine-scented, staggering orange flames. We escape unscathed from our bedroom where a candle caught the...

Nativity Scene and The Forecast

THE FORECAST In a sudden downpour, he won’t make room for me under his umbrella— leans away when I put my arm around him, asks what do I think I am doing, whose fault is it for not having paid attention to the forecast at breakfast when I was still toweling off his...

Go in Abstraction by Sevens with Adverbs

You are meant to get lost hereamong words in a countryof words—diaphanous words holding a plea against somewretched, hard reality,against precision’s pinned-down rage minutely dissectingone more hapless pain, againstedgy acid ironies lying uneasily onopen satin-lined...

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