secret message inside the cornbread
What is inside the cornbread that makes
it feel like sand?
I consume every granule
of cornmeal– it collects inside of me.
Kathy fashions my stomach into a zen garden.
paper as a complex carbohydrate
The scissors wanted
fatty tissue, but instead got hair.
I made a cup out of paper
I drank from it until
it fell apart; I ate the pulp
whose fingers are turning blue?
whose hair is in the trash?
a tiny covenant
Tonight I will fuck Samuel on a second hand couch in a basement of a building that doesn’t have air conditioning. We will lick the sweat off of each other’s necks; we will fuck until it stops raining. In the corner of the room there will be a graveyard for the dead cockroaches. All of the ghost roaches will laugh when my hair starts to frizz in the humidity. Leave me alone, I will say, let me focus on the covenant at hand.
Oh, sacred dust, sacred concrete floor, sacred cockroach carcass– bless this body.
In the fourth grade, Lizz Fong decided z was her favorite letter. This is why she spells her name with two z’s instead of one.