i tell god if this doesn’t **** me i’ll do something with my life and god is understandably skeptical i’ve made bad deals before but i mean it this time i tell god i’m thirty one years old i’m handshy i’m pretty enough for two and i know i haven’t done anything about any of that and i know i don’t always act like it but right now i’m scared and i have nobody to tell i’m scared and i wonder what i’ve been doing for all this time i mean what have i been doing for all this time was i waiting for the poverty to let up like summer rain was i waiting for the city man to enter frame and smile at the camera no i wasn’t i was writing poems and i was drinking and i was smoking but mostly i was writing poems i was writing poems i gave away like kittens like kittens with miserable bones and a language that can only speak to language and god i guess i’m not that scared but i am sad and i’m sad for being sad and i feel so dumb i feel such a sense of loss i feel it in my mouth like an omen like my little life given body and when it dies i am reminded things can be wasted

what’s it like, god asks.

god, who will never know blood. who will never know meat. who will never wake, one day, teething. animalic. mawed

i don’t know, i say.

i’m not honest. chimeric, my body coils around a clutch of eggs. i will test their shells, one by one, with the tip of my most solemn tooth

before i remember what i am.

i need to go home, i tell the angel. you are home, the angel says.
and i am.
this is the trailer i died in. glowing like god’s throat, a hallway
crawls before us.
at the end, a snake.
biggest snake i’ve ever seen.

the summoning

dream, not dream. does it matter. light a match. should your match fail, don’t light another. just leave. otherwise, approach the window silently. you will see your reflection. your reflection will see you. you are allowed one word. your reflection is allowed two. use this time wisely. if, when your match dies, you see a beast beyond the glass? know. know it’s yours; know you did this. prepare the blood and go outside

i fear
i’ve given you too much. i don’t know how much i’ve given. i fear anyway. i fear i’ve been a bad mother. i mean, i fear i wasn’t good. i mean, i fear i wasn’t god. was i. was i god enough. did i make you immortal. did i think, did i bleed, did i give you life. did i make a monster. a starving, long tooth-d, hollow claw-d monster. i hope so. you can eat me. i’ll regrow my soul. i’ve done it before. there are no instructions, but once, years ago, the angels ate the whole thing. they carried it away in their mouths. they carried it for days. they carried it for months. they uttered no prayers for fear of losing me. fear. losing me. i fear losing me. i fear the chew. i fear being digested. being **** out and then forgotten. that’s not what immortal means. how many souls do we get

adam and eve try to find heaven. along the way they go camping. when night falls adam begins to cry. later, adam says he can't tell if eve is a princess or an alien. eve is less confused. adam is the seed in her throat. the watch on her wrist. she doesn't think they need heaven. she won’t admit it.

tea party in the city of dreams. the table is dressed in guts. jars of fireflies. my earring is the devil. it speaks. i am a woman. there are snakes in my belly. my virginity has regrown. dog-dark and dog-hungry. gathered, before me, a horned god; a trembling fawn; my mother. i am to tell their fortunes. the snakes in my belly are mating. the devil burns my ear. the city of dreams is on fire. i crawl onto the horned god’s lap and begin to cry

and this means two things; time travel is real, but god is not. an angel looks for drugs in the cushions of my couch. i pretend not to notice. i put on the movie about the vampire and the vampire hunter. my loneliness is rabidly soft. when the movie turns me on i take off my underwear. the angel doesn’t notice. the vampire describes violence. the hunter describes dawn. their bodies press together like a top and bottom jaw. when it becomes clear someone is going to die, i turn the tv off. the angel is sad. unsuccessful. i’m sorry, i say. let me look inside, the angel says. i tell the angel i’m empty. god isn’t real. the angel wants to try anyway. i turn the movie back on. the angel sticks their fingers in my mouth. i think god needs to hurry. i think, hurry, god. make the world. save the vampire. save the vampire hunter. put something inside me that belongs. the angel finds my teeth and thinks they’ve won. the movie catches on fire. i’m not sure who died

costume party in the city of dreams. i am a moth. my wings don't fit through any doorways. the city man sleeps on a couch, dressed like a movie. the pictures on his chest don't move. i think this is a nightmare. the city is the devil's closet. the city is a museum on the moon. the city is a dragon's egg. a dragon's only egg. i try to find a way out. broken, my wings trail on the floor

the city of dreams is a dead mall in zombie winter. there is no getting warm. all prayer happens in the food court. the city man brings me a cherry slushie, then tells me to stick out my tongue. we won’t get married. my crush is a lake inside my chest. i ask the city man if he knows how to swim. we kiss in a closet guarded by two blue dogs. when i emerge, i’m pregnant. i’m terrified. i touch my body obsessively. i name my baby rock land. i name my baby thunderstorm. i don’t stay much longer. when i wake, sorrow fills my bed with hot water. i touch my body obsessively. i’m wet. i’m empty. i taste cherries and snow.