13 Stages of Grief


1. Monday: to do: dance lessons.
2. Monday
3. Monday
4. Last Monday
5. When a tree hollowed out by termites finally hits the ground it makes the empty thud of a dry sponge, or a mushroom. Nothing lives inside of it but mold and mold’s so old it ain’t even on the radio no more. It thrives in unlit armpits. It’s dumb.
6. When the tree hollowed out by termites finally hits the ground it bursts into crows, dumb as bums, louds as bombs, and then into parrots, genius can openers, yet their names remain impenetrable to especially themselves.
7. Rob Zombie?
8. Shit yes Rob Zombie.
9. And fucking.
10. Fucking with hammers and let’s crack open the Cliff Notes on Greek Gods and really read it, for once on crack fuck yeaaaaaaah!
11. ODB sits on his throne in your soul—behind the belly button and the gun belt zones. He says “I love you, baby” then throws hydrochloric acid in your face.
12. Doberman
13. Republican
14. Tent with little flag signaling you have been eaten by bears.
15. Flying.
16. Besides white. What will be on the flag?
17. The flag will have a pussy on it.
18. That’s a very nice pussy on your flag says the pharmacist.
19. He is very big.
20. There are five of them.
21. Put five big pharmacists on the flag.
22. Or vets. Let’s mend the crows. And the parrots. With holes chewed in their sore bald armpits. There are antidepressants just for birds, you know.
23. Maybe one more?
24. Nah.

-Jennifer L. Knox (No Tell Motel)

***