josephine, the plumber
     

you will not see scuff, nor stain, nor particle—only loss.

& once, her index finger stuck, crooked in its hook-bent shape.

& when her heart jumped, like some jolt-to-wrist, carpal tunnel bloomed.

she chewed the plaster green grit out of her nail slit.

died of chemical poisoning.

can you open her up at the rusted drain plug
& mend her joints, frozen in bent mutation.

these are her all-funeral hands, wrists crucified to the porcelain bin.

*****

Courtney Leigh Jameson recently graduated from Saint Mary’s College of California with an MFA in poetry. Jameson currently lives in Phoenix, AZ where she is The Bowhunter of White Stag Journal. Jameson’s work has appeared in several journals including The Doctor TJ Eckelburg Review, FLARE:Flagler Review, Sierra Nevada Review, and Slipstream Press.

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