THE  27Th  EDITIOn

where it is against the rules to be angry / to let the joy of madness rumble on top of our knees instead of embroidered cloth napkins we should know how to make, right / where you learn how to find your place within a pristine tornado / we tuck away our arguments from the night before into the folds like an attempt to spit and hide a bad bite of chicken—someone always notices /  how we pick at our fingernails like each strip torn away becomes a fortune cookie message about who we are and why it is important not to lose / a game of trying to achieve the most effortless pour of water into a cup / I believed the act of falling preformed by a water drop looked more beautiful than my reflection in the glass top table / I wanted to etch sharp question marks on it / ask / why a drop caressing the contours of a kettle is such a bad thing / to want a type of emotion before the kettle sings / don’t cry / we tape pastels and broken pieces of ceramic mugs over internal storm clouds and work to create a chorus of clanking spoons to damper our thunder /