You see, chickens are a bit like sharks.

They came to the mountain because that’s where their prophets had told them to go.

In return, I lacerate their hearts with flint.

Still, he pays a penny.

Silence. Drilling. A fly buzzed a perfect enneagram.

Mouse child wiggles toward the cracked window, searching for a breeze.

Who put the BOMB in the booma boom ka-BOMB boom / Who…

They never said, "Don't stare at the stars, you'll go crazy."

But they should have.

It’s Halloween and California is on fire.

Evilly, the sun found any spot sunscreen missed. 

Kerria touched every bouquet that she passed, in case something were to happen.

It’s no news that the first sons in Arinze’s kindred did not live past thirty-five.

Chloe wants her water enclosed, straight.

They stop at James’ chair. Not a word is spoken. James rises. Follows them outside.

In my mind’s eye, Monday is indigo.

Is it because she isn’t the first? 

He opened his eyes and gazed at us, assuring himself that we were listening, though none of us had missed a word.

He looks away from me like a shy boy. I put my hand to his forehead. It is cold. He weeps and cries without making any sound. I want to cry too. I want to shout.

I kept having these dreams about you whose remains were everywhere

(Step into these shoes and you’ll be a different woman, the salesgirl had told me)