Machines are no longerMatthea Harvey
slowly combing the red earth.
There is no one left to explain
the cones in my eyes to me.
I have been given my sentence
& it is not a long one
though it does include the word
quintessential which pleases me.
Accordingly, I am no relation
to the sky but to the mechanical
dragon wrapped in tissue paper
with plastic flames poking
through. I never told you
that if I were born a suitcase
I would want a trailer
with red curtains so I could
pretend to be a lion. But being
matter-of-fact is like a meatpie in
the pocket. It is the way to go.
I have no idea what it means, but I like it.
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