Zoe Rose Kriegler-Wenk
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Mornings are sticky and sweet
glue on my fingers
honey on my tongue
glue on my fingers
honey on my tongue
I lick my lips
in anticipation of
my mini massacre
the rip before the resurrection...
Off with her head!
Off with her head!
And for the
cradled carnage;
a new torso to perch upon
cradled carnage;
a new torso to perch upon
Novel hands to reach for…
What was it you wanted?
What was it you wanted?
Friends!
bodies belonging to everyone but themselves:
a family of funky frankensteins
a family of funky frankensteins
It was me who gave her his body
And it was she who gave him his
And it was she who gave him his
gender gently degenerating
with wicked and wonderful whimsy
with wicked and wonderful whimsy
the muted memory of a second set of lips
buried beneath a stolen smile
from some celebrity on page 6
from some celebrity on page 6
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