“You know what would be great?” Spector spread a smile over his face. “If we took this here,” he held up the severed foot. “And put it here,” he pointed at where the man’s hand used to be. “I think that would be great.”

Clark frowned. “You want to put his foot where his hand was?”

Spector rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to just put it there. I want to sew it there. Like, with surgery.”

“You want to put a foot where a hand’s supposed to go?”

“Sew. I want to sew it there.”

“Where a hand’s supposed to go.”

“Yeah. With surgery.”

That cat is looking
at me funny, I’ve seen it
talking to the cook, licking
its sly little claws

She bought a pair of New Balances
to get the old frame from high school.
She prodded her skin like an experiment,
exfoliated, put polymers in her hair,
and trusted soaps made from animals
she’d never heard of.

Two dragons took their waking slow
lazily slithering into sunshine, draping
themselves on rust colored mesas
yawning, they waited, not knowing
how much the world had changed
and not changed during their big dirt nap.

Charles Xavier’s sulked in his room
since matron said Cerebro was banned:
why triple the leccy bill when there’s
a copy of the Yellow Pages to hand?