Amy Souza
“I Wrapped You in Cellophane to Protect My Heart”
Response
Fossils
By Julia Laxer
Inspiration piece
fossils found in:
the abdomen of every woman
the roman candle of a man.
a psychotic disorder in
the slim-hipped ambivalence of
a 6-year-old child, affecting the moods
in lapping water
of swimming pools, everywhere.
*
the rumble of Little Rocky Run,
the tremble of Aspen Hills.
headlights sear sky,
scars hide well.
suburbanites locked and makeuped-on.
paved little carcass.
TV dinner carcrash.
*
(which may
alternate)
extreme highs
extreme lows
i poured pavement over you.
and how?
*
Springfield blueprint
jogging trail
derailed deer.
cutdown tree teenage
drivers.
nasty place.
bunny hole.
pot lot.
feels continually elated
chain link fence acid butterflies
the depressive phase of the
woodchip hush, such a
unfulfilled crush,
such a
belly-shirt compliment.
*
never tell
logs not tied.
i stood round
in a
circle
and
lifted some
body that wasn’t
mine.
“Fossils” originally appeared in print in the journal Small Po[r]tions, issue #3, and was also published online at
smallportionsjournal.com/2014/09/25/julia-laxer-fossils/
——————————————————
Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.
One Comment
I really liked both, the lush enthralling words and imagery of Fossils and the color and composition of the blue cellophane piece