The landlord turns up early, doesn’t appreciate my attempts with
vinegar and baking powder. Hangover life is relatively rosy,
though sometimes it must be erased, or smudged at least.
I fake strength I don’t possess so enemies can’t bump me off—
a thousand pins suspend me between completion and destruction—
my aspirations are abandoned buildings. Stripped, I feel like
a potential champ knocked out by illness— a crawling
heart letting the rain pour in. We all give way sometimes,
ache at times—fail to ripen. With everything uncertain, I tip
back and forth between faith and doubt, a visual hug, a vexed
form. In the end, the landlord decides he’ll leave me to it.
Karen Little (kazvina) has exhibited her art internationally, and is widely published as a writer in the UK and further afield. Her latest publication is the illustrated pamphlet, Dissecting an Artist (2019) with The Black Light Engine Room Press.