Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Nineteen Spring 2009 |
Vase Kristine Ong Muslim An upturned glass mouth furrowed at the brim, it shines until it loses its hands. It hunkers on the table until it becomes smaller, wiser, and less visible to the eye. Now it wants air. Now it wants water. It wails a splash no riverbed can hear. Now it wants nothing. Then it wants more. |
About Kristine Ong Muslim |