In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

78 A Face to Meet the Faces The Chimera Faces Extinction, Displacement Susan Slaviero What I am has something to do with teeth, with stone gods who’ve forgotten my breath should be volcanic, more yellow than the nucleus of a sphinx’s egg. I am portentous, luck-broken. If you see me, you should find a shipwreck or something skinned and shuddering. My body reminds you of poppies, spiraling wasps in a windstorm. I will not take a stone in my mouth, swallow doves or mice, strike anything that occurs in threes. I go marauding in suburban yards, my goatspine scraping beneath your swingsets, the limbs of acacias and oaks. I slouch past your dwellings unnoticed, like a housecat during dinner hour. I don’t understand your zygotes, your finely-tuned and matching cells. Where are your manes, your udders? Even my plainest sister had a bouquet of heads at birth. Even your dogs seem unfinished, lacking in mosaic patterns. Today, I am watching your bones, hoping to see them grow monstrous beneath your too-bright skins. Maybe you will consume a cobra and evolve more useful appendages. Maybe you will grow mothwhite scales when the moon drops away, so beautiful. ...

Share