Page 96


One gun per family. And one painting. One gun and one painting.

One stitch for you, one one stitch and no cheating. Daguerrotypes of stretching, stretch marks. More than any divine cut. I have another magnanimity: singing— the accident of trembling. One blanket per family. One blanket and one street cleaning each mid-morning. Go under, be brave, under the bed. Slip the coins into the folder of skin, baby hurry.


Millions discover their favorite reads on issuu every month.

Give your content the digital home it deserves. Get it to any device in seconds.