by kvennarad

“If you want jingles
..about how your old
..granny turned bags

..inside out, so that
..she could cuckold
..one supermarket at

..another, then go to
..the next booth and
..buy their skylarks!”


..Why wrangle about
..whether day or night
..is the cover when it
..is obvious who stole
..the stars, broke into
..sleep, sent us slavery,
..bobbed and docked
..our freedom, ended
..the tenancy of mind?


Perfectibility: she’s
shaped on her lover’s
lathe, made go in that

chantier, until one day
she awakes and finds
her bed’s too small, at

which point she flits a
city, piques her hairdo,
reshuffles her top ace.


jupiter©Marie Marshall