- Vol. 04
- Chapter 03
No One Hears Usunhinged, even a bag screams,
handle-jaw aghast at the way life
can flatten us.
the seam is not where we split, but a place
wholly unexpected, everything spilling,
skin pleating into ghosts,
a shadow puppet or blastocyst,
an elegant crane or an African mask,
ripped from context.
gusted, we butterfly open, soles
arching to shoulder blades,
contortionists under kliegs.
breaking in tenterhook silence, we wait
for applause that doesn’t come,
aghast, our handle-jaws unhinged.