Wednesday, May 16, 2018

escalationary tale

 her formidable frame-span
is anchored by the heat & heft of
yoga ball hips.
the smell of  a shampooed possum
curls
up the corner, green
indicating into which
books were shoved
the incriminating letters.

a bucket from the River Thames
was plucked,
on the night she slid the bundle
in the slot,
by a bystander
who spied it afloat carrying
mutilated finger
food,
foot-
longs, and
soggy madeleines.

the loss of her reputation was sped
by venom in stories that changed
and abrasions that stained her skin

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