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Abigail Swoboda
the lunar Monday: a lighter w two flames, flickering against left shoulder, slit, pouring long hair & Aura: pulsating white & silver. The Divine absorbs through the pores/this fabric has a memory. Tuesday: the sidewalk is soft w Sycamore seeds, soccer practice, sun/setting. Warm wet. I have not been so much inside my body: a winding staircase going down, walls covered in carpet pink & orange, ash/ trays/o/ver/flo wing. Wednesday: See you later, Beatrice! A woman with a shovel wearing a jean skirt up to her knees in sand: she rides three stops, then: fingers find the wire, pull: so many sand/fleas. A pencil in the window/well. Have a good Thursday: I think it’s hot when I use my cane. my shoulders in the crowd: mattress stained w yearning. The cake was just so delicate & I am sad that I will not be every kind of person: Joyce & Jimbo & I always smush bugs w my bare/fingers. Friday: flocks of grackles, a pigeon turning in the air in front of me: sudden sun/soaked detail: bare/chest, bright/pink, sweating 8 of Spades: the Snake, en/ mity, calamities. it’s been a december Saturday: plum/flesh purple then red then white. We are all animals together some/times: fur, saliva, prayer, pits. some/times it is not blood that lies beneath the skin. in my dreams: I devour Sunday: burning up the ends of incense sticks on the electric stove. internal dithering, pneumatics. Kawasaki air/car: Wait. my hands are always in my pockets. Wait until leader clears the lunar. |
