Your kick was powerful and it was very challenging to change your diaper. I actually felt this kick when you were in my tummy, which made me think you were a boy.
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That’s how people were these days most often, though not my mother. I heard her cooing even as they tickled off her flesh.
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Turning a crank
on the side of my head
& shooting diamonds
out of my eyes
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I watch your mouth
swallow the fruit
as I caress your head.
They give me the freedom to do this, this thing they call telling the truth. Summon me. I promise to do the chores.
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I am intruding—I am an intruder—how unsavory mother would find it. I open the drawer of a dark wood chest and I see them. A sea of pinks and whites, offwhites and yellows. Silk, lace, small blankets, warm serviettes.
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The cooks and local policemen came by to see her on her shifts. Her necklaces got tangled in the skin tags on her neck. She begged me to mash cysts on her back.
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the brilliant Sophie
forsaking introductions
before an audience of philistines
He’ll pinch his photos with fat fingers and wave them about. The body will develop into something creamy. I’ll make him crop out the skull, per our agreement.
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Is there mayonnaise in that? a woman—a stranger—asked. Her sharp chin jutted down at his potato salad. The lenses of her sunglasses were gigantic, giving her face the appearance of an insect.
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They called it the Bacillus abortus of Bang, no joke. Stockmen and dairymen shot up in the night to a pounding at the door, a light on in the barn.
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Then, I’d just finished work on a novel, the publication of which I’d been assured would change my life. I was pre-diagnosis, drinking in moderation. The night before, I’d gone on my second date with the woman who’d never heard of Phil.
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IMAGINE
A WORK LIFE
EXPERIENCED
AS YOUR IDEAL LIFE