He sprinted towards the sliding glass door
thinking he could fly if he
got past the pane,
if he could get past the wire.
And he broke free—
burst through the pane and the frame and the wire,
but woke up all in wire-cut cubes 1X1X1
except for his ears.
Ears that came off, sliced at their irregular bases and fell
neatly on the grass in their awkward shape and twitching,
listened to the sound of his body coming down—
solid drops like hard rain
patter-patters on the
About the Author:
Mason Bolton is a graduate of the Rutgers University at Newark MFA program in Poetry, and he has a BA from Rutgers University in New Brunswick in English. For the past two years he has been working as a Part-Time Lecturer of Poetry.