Friday 2/08/2008 12:00:00 AM

The mannequins are wearing the wrong clothes. The child is deciding how much to grow from this experience. Too many timelines for any one life to manage. I'm there. And then. Everywhere and no place. If you see me remind me again what time it is.

We compared our famines. Everyone was a winner. Burnt doll feet soup in their plastic shoes. Lead in their footsteps. Conversing with the doorbell in linear explanations. As if time were a constant. Or even something to be measured.

Take me off. In ripe dismissals of everything I was. Chew on these filthy feet. You've not gone far, but your hunger is all the same sincere. The callous stammers of wasted flesh like a constant strobe light on every touch.

Alone we dance. Together we convulse. To music that no one else can hear.

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