collages 

i'm taking daguerreotypes
of this up-side down banister
a slide made of wheels 
each turning reliably 
as eyes turn over in 
a skull each hour. my ears
scamper down the dark hall
back & forth like the soft
feet i would imagine rabbits have.
i used to want a rabbit--
scrap the "i"-- 
we used to want a rabbit
we bought a cage & everything--
filled the floor with vegetables
great for nibbling 
but the rabbit never came
& the windows were a great 
metaphor waiting to happen 
but they shut. take a pen 
& break the plastic seal.
take the plastic seal 
& use it to preserve yourself.
if that doesn't work 
they say that salt can
do wonders for a pair
of fingers. the banister 
is being slid down by 
a pocket watch that is 
also an organ-- that unnamed 
organ that keep track 
of what hour it is with
only slight accuracy. fingers
weighed at check out
2.99 a pound. a capsized 
bed room-- a hot whirling
in the garbage disposal.
check. there's no garbage disposal
just a nest of teeth down there.
thank the teeth for watching
over this house. feed the teeth
strips of raw chicken & 
ask the teeth if you've
been a good collaboration
of photographs. this is a collage
of people who've had their
pictures taken. the plant
on the windowsill is dying 
& there's nothing we can
do but watch. when you
fall asleep i want
you to stay still to get
the right image. yes
right there, that's it.
ring the doorbell. tell
the rabbits you've been
waiting for this night.
promise the rabbits. 
tell them they can 
eat the dead plant &
then the plant won't really
be dead. i ate all the photographs
of myself as girl because 
it was easier
that way. i tasted like 
apples & raw chicken.
now when i open my mouth
it works like a projector
a slide show of old images.
yes, that used to be me.