version one

grumpy little boy goes to
bed without saying good
night properly and little girl
gets a stomachache and then
has a slow cigarette even
though the clear air tastes
better. something about the twist of
hips that she’s trying to bury
completely and crush with the
trowel. life-preserver lipstick
is an exaggeration she likes
to cling to. grumpy boy will
wake up and forget to brush
his hair and forget to send any
messages to the girl who will
decide he doesn’t love her. they’re really
just people.

monday morning, influenza

i'm a little tired of

viruses, the dirty things

that pass between

people. i'll swallow

my sneeze to help out but

you should have stayed

home. i think we're trying

hard enough already.

don't you know these doors

are too heavy for

girls who don't eat breakfast?

dormitory diary

...the thing I want most is

to crawl into his

sweatshirt so I am inside it and

pressed against his warm

chest. When I am at school it

seems like I can

never really get warm. It

can take hours for my feet to

get feeling back. My heater works, but

it’s next to the window that

doesn’t properly close. The

showers can never quite get

up to a hot enough

temperature, but one that is

frustratingly close...

my dry hands

what am I going to do? Well:

I’m not finished. So I guess I’m

going to do whatever the

opposite of being finished is.

Like hearing the water

under the grate and

just not knowing where

to go to find it.

But I can cut across the

grass now. Like everything else

I thought would never happen.