Since 1968
| More than her doped mouth, it is her unfocused gaze that convinces the researcher that his assistant isn’t listening. How is he to instruct her properly? |
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| The researcher is stroking his beard & the assistant is touching her face. |
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| Given his pedigree, the researcher has the authority to ask the girl anything. Close your eyes for me, please. |
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| To whom does she owe the pleasure of being dragged here? |
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| She isn’t the first he will include in his study… |
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| To be in the presence of his scrutiny is like dry heaving roses. |
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| The researcher can’t help himself: Her trumpet swan neck is a feature on which to feast as he imagines what’s under her dumb fuzzy cardigan |
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| Heads before stems | ||
| Because he is a licensed professional & thus has earned the public’s favor, mathematically speaking his word > hers |
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| She says, I’m sorry, the ghost you are calling cannot be reached. |
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| So the researcher places his hand on her knee. |
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| & when she opens her eyes, she can see herself wandering mountains & negotiating their dangers— all those opportunities to drop from a blow to the head so strong out bashes your brain— on every climb signs warn of falling rocks but she never once looked up. Why bother? Rocks were already falling. |
Theodora Ziolkowski is the author of On the Rocks, winner of a 2018 Next Generation Indie Book Award, and Mother Tongues. Her poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in many journals and magazines, including Glimmer Train, The Writer’s Chronicle, and Short Fiction (England). She teaches creative writing as an Assistant Professor at the University of Nebraska at Kearney.
