Status Updates From Perfection

"Melodious, now, the sound of her snores in the room.
Harmonious the symmetry of our bodies,
one floor above our children, safely dreaming,
lit iodine orange by their turtle lamp’s glow."

"It’s the same old story:
woman’s eyes are a pit,
her long neck is a pit,
her full lips are a pit,
these words are a pit,
all should be covered
lest the animal fall in"

"Grief fermenting in the deeps
of their bruised black fabrics,
they venerate white stucco
and asymmetrical rococo."

"Grief fermenting in the deeps
of their bruised black fabrics,
they venerate white stucco
and asymmetrical rococo."

"My family picnicked in lonely places
because we couldn’t stand the thought
of making small talk with strangers.
There was something special about us."

"How strange if transubstantiation had really taken place,
the wine thickening and tasting like pennies;
the host swelling into soft rubbery flesh.
It’s impossible, of course, but what is possible,
infinitely realizable, is the human capacity
to behave as though sweet sherry were blood
and a dry wafer a sliver of parchment"