Monday, December 14, 2015


She rubbed lemon on her wrists, then dipped them
in powdered sugar, rolling them
back and forth. She spread her arms
on the lawn. The grass tickled her skin.
Ditto the ants

A plastic tarp stretched across the gap
in the rocky ground. 
Its grommets had rough metal edges
that scratched her palms. She kept dropping
the rubber band, the electrical tape
The knotted copper wire

It was all soft as pillows, soft as soap and snow
but it all went rough as sidewalk, sandpaper, tree bark
A wooden pallet flicked its splinters into the wind
Tiny explorers burrowing into the planet's skin

She slid her hands into a cold soothing pool,
fingers breaking through the sheath of ice
When she pulled them out she realized
she'd lost her wristwatch
she could see it gleaming down there
on the rocks far below
a distant lighthouse winking through the fog
She removed her shoes

She moved into a house of hair
and accidentally on purpose started 
a grease fire on the stove
Needing the thrill, or maybe just curious
Burning curtains, flaming braids,
sticks of dynamite with curly pubic fuses
lit one by one, they all fizzled out
every single one a dud
Gasoline on her lips, juice running down her chin
She held her wrists over the flames
and sadly squeezed out a few drops of blood
to squelch the conflagration
before tightly, tightly rewrapping 
the bandages.

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