Even during–even if it during
Popovich pushed past pastel where Friday’s palate the taste of plastic on cloth damp paper left folded the crowd in cubicles along the rails my thighs reached out drying close a glove to the hand in lines of ladies with cigarettes charcoal stiffening between a charge wired to a pen doctor swelling lips slit kissing on her porch the albino pooch its skin torn like a glove up and into the canal where she started the water running in the sink hair stretching into the greyhound’s teeth its skin risking the impact it had taken