CORI A. WINROCK

Still Life with Levitating House/Wife

from The Suburbium Sonnets

*.
One should never invite the magician into the kitchen—
the sick microwaved-blue of the unshaved face.

*.
Slickered across the hallway floor, the flickered italics
of the five-point antlers as they jaw off the wall.

*.
On the counter top the metallic hiss and crack! of her
just-busted-open beer carbon-dioxides the air.

*.
Through the mirror, a flash of her caught in the stop-
motion act of slow-floating away; her hair grazing
against the jellyfishing glass chandelier.

*.
Inside the dishwasher it’s the butter knives that clink
and kick, those flat shining femurs.

*.
Of course the bread’s been left to leaven at the sink.
Inside it is heat-dark & murmur: keep your eyes
on the prize, it says—keep your hands wide oven.