Here comes John, clavicle first. Seventeen years old, big head. The starvation round his mouth makes him look like he is always smiling. He points with his finger straight from his voice – his prophecy, accurate or inaccurate, is honest prophecy, which is to say it is descriptive. Aesthetically he might be telling, “this here […]
Tag: John the Baptist
Head
My feet are bleeding because I wear heels wherever I go and because also I walk wherever I go. You can’t tell, because my shoes are red and my toes are painted red. The blue sky is pressed between the walls, and the walls shine. The shutters are open. “Madonn’,” invite the men, leaning toward […]