When I Was Young and Yet More Hollow
I chewed raw macaroni, uncooked oats, dry field corn from a cob. Gnawed sleeves, collars, and nibbled away erasers. I pulled threads from sweaters, spun them against my mouth’s roof like dialing a compass, then pressed the acute tang of Play-Dough, its misshapen, any-colored fruit deep into my cheek. Someone later said I wouldn’t have licked a frozen metal bridge… Read more →