Today I saw the greatest thing ever: a rugby game. Look at that grinding hard hurt! The lack of kneepads-- YES! The soccer-freedom.

Pound my pain flat into the god-green astroturf and maybe it will be better then. That is the new Asphodel: white on white like something ephemeral, ready to go, with plenty hard packing.

I am a scream of scales, a smear of white paint, a bottle-brush on the river bank, two sliced scars on dove-smooth cheek. I am a bite and a half. I want to kick the ball and get taken down.

I am making masks of papier mache, I am building a tower that doesn't exist.

I am going to paint it all white as the white rabbit.

<<agé chose>>

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