Aching of femur the pirouettes of ghostsbefore burying them, using them to waltznot with memories but with thin wirein a heavy slow sway using the boneas a baton, then burning to ashrolling them into a cigarette

"That's not how you fold a fitted sheet," my naked 85-year-old grandmother said, tossing it back at me like a wet bluegill. I let it hit my bare chest and slide to the wooden floorboards between us.The smell of...

...silent sentinels on the dashboard of one's Kiaa silent, plastic affirmation on every speed bumpmolded to sin, an acquiescence lacking a spineholding steady in dull redundancy with a vacantgaze nodding, engaged in narcissistic intimacy...Talking to the monkey in one's...