pottery 2007-present

Inventory: Dream Map, Minor Key
Companions: Crow, Magpie

I write w/ freewriter


Cloudy Jar

hunching over the pine table sucking in the stench of sap
the roof hugged us like a blanket. and it kept all the secrets in.
(which was good because ever since you got that haircut and your bangs are super short
you've seemed different and i don't want anything to change)

we dumped out a jar of spaghetti sauce*
we filled it with a concoction consisting of

  • fancy vinegar
  • lime skin shavings
  • a blind baby mouse (as a catalyst)
  • a drop of blood from each of us
then we shared a stingy cigarette. each one one suck, tasting half like pine sap. we let the smoke ooze out of our faces and into the jar.
we shook the jar, said some ritual stuff. then we looked inside and it said

"you can only trade your problems for different problems"

*fuck africa