Saturday, January 2, 2010


Slivers of white meat 
stick to the windows of my Uncle's glasses.

The Knife
as seen on T.V.
runs on AA batteries
and is based off the design 
of actual chainsaws. 

I hear my mom laughing in a far off room.

"He's way to smart to smoke," she says. 

The right leg makes a slurping noise
as my uncle wrenches it from the animals body
and it's about here where my youngest cousin enters
screaming through the kitchen door. 

He's swapped his glasses for a pair of swimming goggles
and tied his old socks around his neck.

Like a noose, I think
before telling myself to cut it out. 

Suddenly he stops
and turns to us. 

"Look at my scarf," he tells us. 

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