to public clumping,
I sharpen the caw quill
and sing
I Am Lousy With Midnights:
♫ My skin is liquid.
It oozes down the drain,
sings from the traps,
rips through couplings,
spreading rusted lilacs.
I wear fish hooks
and slither the sewer
looking for loopholes
where liquid skin
is the architecture of the world. ♫
© 2010 by Kathryn Feigal. All rights reserved.
