(no subject)

[dear_janet]

it seemed i was years ago,
dust scuffling.

menarche inserted rabbits
down my fur
bladed, delayed agony.

four year tripe
noosed a yarn

baby outside;
those angels--

chorus of automatic
sprinklers--

switched and spun
in the yard.

i got dizzy in the hall
fell through my hole

wouldn't come out
for supper.