There are slugs in the ground :: there are
slugs. A small dog comes to slurp them up.
A buffoon runs for president :: up his glass
tower, a man suction-climbs like a frog
Understand that reality cracks :: one side
slips from another. Oil where the glue should be.
Inside the everyday, it is hidden. It got me—
will it get you, too? Consider the warp,
what an election does to a body :: shudders
from the audience as it comes for them.
The dimension count is off. Let’s lay out
all the world’s atoms like clothes on a bed.
Pull one from two and see what bleeds
Holly Burdorff is an MFA candidate in creative writing at the University of Alabama, where she teaches creative writing and literature. She serves as Art & Design Editor for Black Warrior Review and as the director of the VIDA Count, and her poems appear in recent or forthcoming issues of POOL, inter|rupture, Handsome, and Cimarron Review.