At Once and Why Not

At Once and Why Not Strike the Match to Burn the World

Estelle was a purse, hanging on a nearby hatrack. You were a levelheaded bowler, throwing wide.

As Jonathan fell six stories, the birds aligned on high-tension wires caught a sudden buzz from his screams.

Tara Dean drew the ripe head of a Burner’s brand matchstick along a small piece of Kraft sandpaper she’d glued to the full grain leather of her Redcap boot.

And then on the sidewalk, the late Jonathan’s pocket change encircled his body in a sort of exploded halo pattern.

K. Shawn Edgar | Peace Out | Time-Jumper | Love Skeleton


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