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[39] F O r M Sure enough, breaking news, a pastor sermonizing nietzsche burst into flame but will not burn. On another channel a mother in shambles sobs damp moons into her sleeve over her child who sprouted wings in the middle of meatloaf dinner— last seen occupying the airspace over downtown Detroit. yesterday, there was a funeral at the edge of town and you drove but got lost in a maze of farm roads—scarecrows’ sutured eyes lingered on you long after you’d given up and gone home. you remembered how each of them, stuffed into a body they didn’t choose, resembled your own plight, and it made your heart sink into your chest like damp linens. ...

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