So. I'm doing this again.
Quis?
This box
sealed shiplap painted with tobacco
hinged and watertight
It houses a dead star
Collects the crumbs from a planet
chewed up by dueling black holes
on its surfaces
Bought in the back room of a store run by a blind man
taken into the house of a woman with a third leg
It trembles thinly
A metal sheet punched from an old can
scribbled on with a stick and tossed
into the mouth of a sulphur spring
It is your tongue
ripped from your skull and folded
into an airplane
No comments:
Post a Comment