Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Eighteen Winter 2008 |
Dissection Kasey Kasa He performs a vivisection with silverware every time he smiles, preserves my hopes in formaldehyde. He bathes my heart in Vegas neon, squeezes until convex pockets poke out between fisted fingers. He lets my desire swirl like some mercurial beast then feeds pieces of me to myself until dusk calls, then flies away with my fantasies and takes pleasure in baiting me with small glances that make my pulse quicken until I bleed out on the table, face down, out of luck empty of everything, still clinging, still stuck. |
About Kasey Kasa |