This text is by Marie Buck in her capacity and does not, necessarily, reflect the views of different infinite mile contributors, infinite mile co-founders, the author's employer and/or other author affiliations.
|Egg of Pain + I'm the Sleeping Shadow
Egg of Pain
Hands hold up a slice of quiche.
The girl crosses her arms and looks away.
The girl holds a gift
I like storms.
Why does my skin look like a "wrinkled prune" after I take a
Why do I sweat?
What is science?
It was the sweat that was forming
under a rubber curry flag crate
that made me wonder
who might give me life if not style—
if you were me, would you freak?
I’m the Sleeping Shadow
Now I know what a bug feels like.
It recognizes the uniform of its inspector,
like me here,
I recognize the uniform
of my inspector.
I wash off with old Hose-Nose
who’s at the beach there
when we need him,
we have friends.
But it’s too late.
On a search for growing serum
we form a ring around the cloud
and I get down on my knees.
I file the bars of my jail cell
with an overcooked Thanksgiving turkey
and fold and unfold the paper bags
and give of myself, a symbol of this twisted era.
I turn myself into a water pump
and release water from my mouth
and respond to everyone’s bending
of my legs and supply the village
with a little bit of myself.