My Cardboard Balcony

Word Association by Belinda Roddie Thunder fox trollop eating fish on a sea dock pulling pull-overs into fists of dark metallic glory finishing fate Crisp cretin coughing spittle fire drip dream drop drip dismal purpose I meant not a sound but a harmony piling garbage onto plates silver plates plattered fire droppings that alter my mind may it seem so undiluted that I see the light melting from the polaroid picture next to my bed idle eyes hands feet growth on my toenail this is not life this is rhythm this is spirit attack car speeding motorcycle crash burn cry me a river, George I cried for a mountain full of thunder This is what my brain does on a daily basis, people.

To the left were pigeons. To the right, foxes. And all around me, the sound of horns and baying. I strode to the podium with an axe in my hand. It was spray-painted gold. I spoke in a Nordic tongue I didn't recognize. The foxes yelped. The pigeons did not pay attention. And when I was finished, a fireball struck my throat and rendered me mute while all the world crumbled around my tennis shoe-clad feet.