TAXIDERMYby Anhvu Buchanan | |
| There are cracks in my head. No safe houses in sight. | I am stuffed against my will, hung high up against the wall. |
| A gas tank half empty and miles unaccounted for. | Driving late at night I retreat to the hills, work out my problems with the sea. |
| This is wednesday, this is closest to the bone. | I scatter ashes on the mirror not on my face, you scatter ashes on your face not on my mirror. |
| Another open parachute, another empty stomach. | I read your letters. I raid your fridge. |
| My mousy lip. Quiet little things. | You are as lethal as a shoelace. I come as I please. |