Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Nineteen Spring 2009 |
literary foxes Janie Gleason library matriarchs in australian jackets, with lips in a thin line, correct and forbid me, but I can't help myself; books make me tumble into welcome chests all shouting, make hurricanes blow across my lemon-red face. my lovers are all literature, my whiskers quiver with essays and novellas, I read until my eyes pupate. and I am a leaf, a fly on the wall feeling the fury of my tiny black limbs holding me gently in spite of gravity. |
About Janie Gleason |