izzy

packaged baby carrots, pre-packaged, peeled and tail-ended
they look like weird mutated orange baby fingers
I keep expecting them to be soft between my teeth

*

sarah

My head’s up by the window cleaners
Scraping the sky
And my collarbones are strutting the street like a New Orleans jazz band
I stuff a pigeon through my teeth
And feel it press down through my eighteen-storey neck
To land with a thump between the gridlocked cars

*