The crowds are a loaded pincushion
that pricks me as I lean into
the human tide. The rotunda’s marble
Acting
February 26, 2014
Dispatches
The crowds are a loaded pincushion
that pricks me as I lean into
the human tide. The rotunda’s marble
Sundays, my parents would pin
their names to dress clothes.
The labelmaker’s impressions formed
letters unevenly, and at the end
I still hadn’t learned to swim, after the MacVicar’s pool,
and this pool’s water was cold enough to mask
the pain from knees banged and knuckles scraped