Mudlark No. 47 (2012)

Karoline Wolf-Desert Sunset

We learn to work our heartbeats, we learn to work them to a sulk. 
Every valve is an open valve, every valve is hard shock shut full

on. A thin cut of sweat breaks free to taken, gulched in choke in
fast — in half-light — in beautiful vines of an unaccountable green.

Memory, considered, is one leg we have never had. Wear it well. 

Jeffrey Little | In Pinch Absolute, the Bigger Empty
Contents | Mudlark No. 47 (2012)