constricting by lisa pasold

after train passing by jill d., after missings by jkd, after cull by sean s.


she named her car Godzilla Greed, a monster in demise, plummeting but pragmatic, the cost of the fucking mileage already slowing her across countrysides. she as Medea, the sorceress who ate her children, or was that the spider-witch, how she'd always been suspicious of motherhood. wind hissing through the mouths of her snake-hair, or was that Medusa, who could bear no children and was so beautiful, turned good company to stone whatever hero approached from the horizon. frozen by a reflection. how she tried so hard not to be self-reflective, to escape self-analysis, knew where it would lead: suicidal, writhing luggage like dreads. another premium price for the damn tank, the scent of gasoline on her fingers lighting his cigarette. running from her demise or the child's while the snakes try to be good company along the shattered seats.