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Victorville Carnivàle

Rebecca Loudon

I was pocket sized
with a teensy weensy voice
my clothes never dry
the weight of a wool coat
I gave up dancing
the smug blue toaster
goddamn the men
pounding my roof
with mallets

one night my one night alone with the beast fork-ed tongue bitten down nails I baked cookies for children attended by the fragrant bodies of animals cats the giant gold dog the baby with its steel arm and hook sewn to a cloth bunny swung from the door frame

if I were a dead fish
in a creek and a dog
picked me up
with his slick teeth
and rolled me
and rolled in me
and rolled me into
his honest fur
would this be
true love?

I lied to the men on the roof told them I had a piano lesson to teach pack it up now I said in my grouty voice I told them the false student was about to arrive I said no no you cannot use my bathroom christ what was up with those men mend the shingles fix the roof liars down on all fours

Rebecca Loudon

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