It happens fast.

First you refuse to eat anything with a face.

Milk, eggs, and cheese soon follow.

Anita envied the wind-chimes. Their moans taunted her as she knocked on the oak door. She needed to steady her breath, so she allowed herself to slump, back flat, against the frame of the house. She hadn’t made much progress when the door creaked open. Anita leapt off of the siding, but she didn’t see who she was expecting. “Sorry. I must have made a mistake. I—”

My steamer died
I’m so depressed
I have to wear a wrinkled dress

My dog wakes herself with a fart,
eyes filled with accusation
that I had played a nasty trick,
her glare cold, convinced.

I think last night I caught a glimpse into your soul
in the same, unlucky way strangers catch a glimpse
of you through the gaps in the doors of public
restrooms in America.