In a rococo gold throne, holding a wine glass
filled with blue house paint,a tiny pink weasel
in my lap. Draped in yellow spangled fabric
until I'm a series of offbeat triangles. My hat
a lace paper boat. My chlorine-green hair pulled
back with duct tape, with shreds of a bloody
shower curtain. Tattoos of closed eyes covering
my cheeks. Men holding blueprints on the wallpaper.
A window framing a teal cow field, and a clump of
drowned daffodils, the cows troubled, herded past
the barbwire fence by toddlers with electric prods.
My childhood in the form of rubber dog mask
next to the window. A black animal heart under
my bare foot. Yellow dish-washing gloves nailed
to the bookcase in the shape of a flower. Pencil
scribbles floating lint-like in the air, someone's dark
face hovering at the window's edge.