life inside a telescope

i'm interested in selling
parts of my body when i'm dead.
i'd like to see my ear
in someone's windowsill.
they might look at it & say,
"i should get rid of that"
but instead they hang on.
this is how i live my life.
every time i move i become aware
of just how many books i have
that i have never opened again
since reading. in my last house
i only had one pan. 
upstairs a man listened 
to the radio & the radio said,
"i don't want to be your daughter
anymore." i have been looking
too closely at everyone.
a lens is a horror factory. 
do you know half the people
i talk to are only reciting lines
from television shows?
do you know we all have pimples?
i thought everyone else
walked around with dinner-plate-smooth
cheeks. no! even the beautiful people
have pimples they're hiding.
i am not sure if i want to sell my eyes.
they feel the most intimate.
maybe i will have them 
put into raviolis. i've been
obsessed with butternut squash recently.
if we really needed to
i think we could probably 
eat moths for protein.
a huge one flies into the house
& i chase it as if it is 
a piece of my face. i think
my nose would go for the most money though.
someone might mount it
like a deer head.
do people hunt where you live?
they do here. a deer is 
a site of reconciliation.
when i see them. i tell them to run.