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Mannequins.
All these catastrophic mannequins decked out in their despair, cheap plastic mock porcelain limbs bent, paint skin cracked, lacquer smiles chapped and festering at the corners, vacant eyes trapped under wondering brows, smooth neuter breasts and balls bared under torn clothing peering out of spit-slick windows, greasy with the residue of the tossed out dreams…
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Roadkill Dinner Theatre
It might not stop raining for a while. We might be stuck in here, with the clouds out there and the thunder scaring off all the animals except the crows, calmly picking up the flat remains of possums in the street We might be stuck in here together watching roadkill dinner theatre till night. We…
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Watch.
You gather deaths collect them, fragile things put on display for all the world behind sheltered, break-resistant glass –see how big my compassion is? my heart is broken, so sad– little heroes, dripping acid tears on the linoleum eating through to the dungeon below. Your sorrow smells of mothballs and camphor and uncooked meat left…
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Scavenge.
When fragile blades split our fingers wide sliced the skin of our shattered chests in two, left us pale and eviscerated the sun crawled in and baked us dry the scavengers came- gave life into our bones and hearts and entrails feasted long and slow on ropy veins. And who we were bled out when…
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October 31 1991
The next day you could see where she had come out of herself dark against the black asphalt. I saw her sometimes, behind sleeping eyes dark curls bouncing head thrown back laughing whole with all of her blood inside of her. I saw him too, crouched down, cowering, shivering blade held high and with all…
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Broke Down.
The numbers on the clock run themselves up like debt hold us captive in the same way trying to pay back what we’ve borrowed interest without long-term interest. On the side of the road, on the curb, hood up, broken down flashing lights behind and a reassuring promise to stick around, I pondered the contents…
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Children Drawing Stick Figures at Night
I don’t think it’s juvenile aesthetics alone and poor motor skills that make us as small children inclined to draw ourselves and each other as stick figures. We are accurate representations of who we really are this way: no distended bellies, fat with greed and gluttony and the taste of our own malcontent No misshapen…
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Maybe.
maybe you remember a time when the sky was small and vast and concealed in the palm of your tiny pale hand and wide, stretched tall against the bleak black backdrop of the universe infinitesimal immense maybe you were just as small and invincible and grand. maybe you remember when each note of a tune…
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four seventeen
i ravage his treasure steal from the dreams he keeps locked inside his simmering head written out longhand, his sharp letters a path to the stars night, darker than the furthest corner from the sun and i am nightmares raging, waking out of breath unable to speak with my own voice unable to see with…
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selfish.
i said, in my sleep, i want everything whispered, face turned away from the sleeping back beside me i took it back almost immediately just in case my voice might have carried kept inside the selfish bits wander loose from time to time wanting everything always to be the only thing my system of belief…
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April Fox 