hobart logo
Puncture Stories photo

Tactile stars burdened with heavy silver
Focusing on puncture stories
Scraping against porcelain, porcelain, porcelain
Same brown hair as every other girl
Covering the face and falling into dinner
Despondent dead behind the eyes
I knew you once
This child of mine
Will one day grow up
Wrap her faults with satin
Crease the ends of the page
We found solace here in the smoking section
Cloth napkin on your lap
He said everyone is going to die except us
Remember the long faces
Clown masks and shining rings
Performance is a miracle
Glitter behind the ears, over bruises
A quiet observation, a stabbing expense
Forgive me while I continue painting my face
No one notices my hair falling into dinner
Okay, a few people notice
Don’t count your bills on the table
Daddy always noticed
Count your blessings and perform well
We are accounted for
We are taken care of
We are violent enough

My penmanship is creepy
I fondle myself in the dark
No one notices
Okay, the neighbor notices
I leave the light on and window open