Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Jenna Cardinale, "Flaws"

The applause for the dahlias only stings my ears when it seems short.

The puppeteers promised to never pause their pruning and I would often resort to believing them.

I cannot sort the saws from the shears.

I just watch the engineers abort the garden, then twist themselves in gauze.

I cannot court these laws. I feel as my right hand disappears.