how to disappear completely


Untitled
garmonique
Untitled



'You are quarter ghost on your mother’s side.

Your heart is a flayed peach in a bone box.

Your hair comes away in clumps like cheap fabric wet.

A reflecting pool gathers around your altar

of plywood sub flooring and split wooden slats.

You are rag doll prone. You are contort,

angle and arc. Here you rot. Here

you are a greening abdomen, slipping skin,

flesh fly, carrion beetles.

This is where bullets take shelter,

where scythes find their function, breath loses

its place on the page. This is where the page is torn

out of every book before chapter’s close,

this is slippage, this is a shroud of neglect

pulled over the body, this

is your chance to escape.

Little wraith,

bend light around your skin until it colors you clear,

disappear like silica in a kiln, become

glass and glass beads, become

the staggered whir of an exhaust fan:

something only noticed

when gone. Become

an origami swan. Fold yourself smaller

than ever before. Become less. More

in some ways but less

in the way a famine is less. They will

forgive you for not being satisfied

with fitting in their hands.



They will forgive you

for dying to be



a bird diminutive enough

to fit in a mouth and not be crushed.'


How To Disappear Completely