RED LIVES HERE
The one-room house rustles, wakes up
when I come in. Ears pop out of furniture
like mushrooms. I turn on my unpredictable plans.
A vase shatters on the ground, taking an ear
mushroom down with it. My mouth shuts
and I slip it into my pocket for safe keeping.
I set all the trees on fire on my way home.
I wait under blankets eating apples for the punishment/
apocalypse/wrist slap. Radiators click on and off
rapidly. I am entertained against stars and glaciers.
There is no evidence that I did it. The lord had no
expectations for me so I filled it up to the salt rim
and drank it down. I am wondrously patient
under my blanket and starving post-apple.
The mushroom ears twitch but they cannot tell me
the time. I am an abrupt listener banging,
Kate Litterer is a native Pennsylvanian and has an undying love for the Midwest. She is a graduate of the University of Massachusetts MFA Program for Poets and Writers and is sticking around the Pioneer Valley to begin her MA/PhD in Composition and Rhetoric at the University of Massachusetts in fall 2013. Her poems have been published in Ilk, Jellyfish, Phantom Limb, Sixth Finch, The Destroyer, inter|rupture, and are forthcoming from Forklift Ohio. Kate can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.