Wednesday, June 18, 2008

the skirt hangs over
a plastic hanger
wished itself wood,
without me in it
now it's paper
wished itself wood,
i imagine myself hanging
in the dress on the door

this means nothing

i should be outisde
on the concrete slab,
sizzling like meat in a pan

a small fake panneled
wall saves me
from the obligation
of showing up

repeat that one part