jackie, jackie, have you seen jackie, jackie, have you seen your sweet caroline ripping grass by the handful, and painting her small palms green? and the blond american earth seeping, seeping through her shaking knuckles? jackie, you’ve torn your pearls off your neck, jackie, what a mess! and they bounce around your bruising knees, on the white kitchen tiles in D.C. because johnny’s gone, jackie killed by the heaviest metal pearl (grey, blue) that ever bloomed in dallas (gone, gone! PIF! PAF! POOF! what were you looking for on that convertible’s roof?) jackie, jackie, I’ve read many books and so have you, as you stood in pink and red and bruise
Steps Magazine's second Fall semester issue.