Why thank you! You are mysterious and coy. <3
about the megafauna
Things grow inchoate when I close my eyes. So open them:red dumpster and the redbud tree, how the pitcher-plant
drowns its prey, terra cotta earth, my soft nun-body—coarse sheets, cheap underthings.
Inside the vanishing, women bump each other on the street. Their bags-full-of-world make a tissue paper rustling.
I’ve been thinking about the megafauna.Take the tundra horse. Take the secretary bird.
Leaves become trash and the invasive grasses are facilitated by our hems. Thaw-water in clogged gutters, a fault line where I salt the steps.
The tundra horse, once real, is no longer among us.Night says galaxy dryrot distillation.
Night wobbles like a tilda.
Histology says I’m bruised but good.
From “Lake of Hours.” Kerri has a collection called We Do Not Eat Our Hearts Alone.