(Untitled)
i grow sick at the smell of toast.
it, it floats upstairs and i remember the green fly
that lay dead inside it one time after a shaking. i think of
the scent of bad plates, a smell like mold and sweat-
water. forks all bent out of shape:
the kinds of things i used to fear as a kid.
my grandfather would say taryn, i knew you were ( Read more... )
it, it floats upstairs and i remember the green fly
that lay dead inside it one time after a shaking. i think of
the scent of bad plates, a smell like mold and sweat-
water. forks all bent out of shape:
the kinds of things i used to fear as a kid.
my grandfather would say taryn, i knew you were ( Read more... )
Comments 5
Reply
what was the significance of the plastic forks? that they had not been previously used?
at least no-one is frying turkey burgers in your kibbutz, hey?
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment