#2

Michael
joanna vogel

The child’s head was more round than the cantaloupe but it looked alright, a little dented in some places, but children’s heads are apt to be a little dented sometimes. And I hot-glued some of those spiral macaronis to it to make it look like real hair only, I got to feeling a little peckish the next afternoon and picked most of them off. This made Michael look quite a bit more like a sickly infant than the almost-toddler that he was. At any rate, the cantaloupe started to rot a little after the first few weeks and I no longer felt comfortable bringing him out and about in the stroller after that. Now I’ve laid him down and sit next to his crib all day; my fingers are always crossed that he’ll take a turn for the better soon. I watch his head and it just keeps shriveling smaller and smaller, but the strange smell that’s been floating up from under the floorboards ever since I brought him home has finally all but gone and I’m hoping that when it has gone, Michael will be abe to breath a little easier.

Today, A Salvadorian Asked Me Out to Dinner, He Did, It was Sad, I've Never Been Out to Dinner

The skyscape is made of ellipticals
in my head. Calling all lips:
words are stunned.
My new shell. I feel horizontal
for being stupid. What am I
tangled in? Lent.

Roberto, Corey, Shauna