A kid said you could chew road tar if you got it before it cooled, black globule with a just-forming skin. He said it was better than cigarettes. He said he had a taste for it. On the same road, a squirrel was doing the Watusi to free itself from its crushed hindquarters. A man on a bicycle stomped on its head, then wiped his shoe on the grass. It was autumn, the adult word for fall. In school we saw a film called Reproduction. The little snake-father poked his head into the slippery future, and a girl with a burned tongue was conceived.
Chase Twichell - 1950-
To the Reader: Twilight
Whenever I look out at the snowy mountains at this hour and speak directly into the ear of the sky, it's you I'm thinking of. You're like the spirits the children invent to inhabit the stuffed horse and the doll. I don't know who hears me. I don't know who speaks when the horse speaks.