Esther Lee



Model prisoner or not, I won't.

Silver lash, hound's tooth,
meager sinful town's crook.

I am nervous again. I could kill
if you let me. But tonight, I'll be still
under this palm. Zeroed out,
the tea my toilet muck.

Licorice and almond
twisted beneath the sink,
I'm lovely again. Come on
with my dying.

Today the globe's underside
isn't pink, but rather,

I look ahead toward what
has happened.