"Beyond Jasmine"
The
chandelier
drips
champagne
children
speak
in tongues
off
to the side
I
land in white pigmented sand
sink
down to my knees
weak and skinned
children piss in the river
can’t find their ghost
stories
stars
roll out
sugar jars appear empty
coyotes sleep on pillows
swallow their
breath
shallow
pools of milk
Dear
Em, never jump from a
plane
unless your parachute is
a tiger swallowtail
a tiger swallowtail
"Em,"
Sometimes when I’m human I brew coffee in the
morning. I feed my cat. I leave my luggage in the living room with
the cat. Six days I feed the cat. On the seventh, I rest. He does not eat. He unpacks my luggage and becomes human. Sometimes when he is human he brews coffee in
the morning and feeds me toast for breakfast but only when he has hands. When he has paws he only walks around the
kitchen looking for me. He doesn’t find
me. I am in the luggage with his
sometimes hands.
