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{love song} jason fraley Say gasmask confessional. Say dentist’s chair, drills, fragrance of anesthetic. Say scripture calls for a stockpile of wives in times like this. [when nerves are a commodity] [when you can tear down the neighbor’s houses to build beds] [when they’re willing to weave their hair into hammocks / to be eaten] Say they’re all named Amy and barren. Say they’ve made her a myth. Say a window. Say a perfectly symmetric garden. Say green peppers look like hand grenades, pins and all. Say you’ve dreamed of a prosthetic affair. Say you’ve dreamed of more you. Say oblige. Say you could learn to love plastic as your own flesh. |
