by Maggie Boles
with great care and even breath, untie
the foil skin and tongue it with your mango
fingers; allow it to dangle like spindly webs in the
corner of the hallway, beside a dead and crispy daddy
long legs swaying softly that will not move of its
own volition even if you blow on it directly.
watch the leaves drip down like mercury
blisters; gather the remains and blow them into
a sphere, as close to a sphere as you
can get, use your opposable thumbs like
god intended and birth a tiny garden gnome,
a globe, a marble.
warble a while alone in the bathroom where
the acoustics are best left unattended;
try aiming your howling at the bathtub floor or
step inside the shower naked, with or without
the water running for ten minutes at least.
climb atop the kitchen counter barefoot and face
the center of the cavity with pores stretched
wide; allow your toes to curl along the granite edge
then parallel your arms to the tile floor, palms up and
let the snapdragons grow from the largest wrinkle.
when the bloom has reached the ceiling, step
down and wrap your legs around your earthworm
saddle with eyes closed and let the slime of the
mucous membrane drench your arid back
patio hair follicles.
Smash the brainless snake with a hunk of the macadam
and gather the remains
for the nest.