~
The joke gets out of hand
Maggie’s dad, a deer’s head, and I
walk into the kitchen
Or Maggie’s dad and a deer’s head
sit at the table and watch
I walk into the kitchen
It is a long kitchen
We could all sit comfortably
The deer’s mouth is open
It is a very person like mouth
Pink in every place that
I am — dry too
Maggie’s dad has one hand
on the back of its neck, moving lightly
I don’t like his hands — they are bigger
than mine and more calloused
And I have the most calloused
hands in school
How calloused are my hands?
My hands are so calloused
the other girls say it hurts
to hold them
Maggie’s dad does not know
that when we play in the woods,
sometimes we see headless animals
still twitching and Maggie and I
hold each other by the throat
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know.
The deer looks at me like he might.
~
Josie Levin
Josie Levin is a visual artist and writer whose work has appeared in Litro Magazine, Witness, and Unstamatic Magazine.