the winter i was shot

i met her

dangling

on the shopping cart.

words were useless

with the wheels

thumping.

in the soda can,

all those bubbles against her.

outside there was room

for weather.

for small starved hands

of trees.

a little lightning could

cook them up.

a little thunder could

call the neighbors.

we pay with change

the manager must count.

a little boy picks up a penny

and sneaks away.

he could have been anyone’s.

he could have been ours, pretty as flesh.

he is a modern advertisement from head to foot.

and i want a cookie.

something.

i am always dressed for halloween.

when anyone asks,

i tell them

there is something

dashing in my genes.

---

Livio Farallo is co-editor of Slipstream and Professor of Biology at Niagara County Community College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Helix, Rabid Oak, Rise Up, Otoliths, Ginosko, Literary Yard, Panoplyzine, and elsewhere.