Stake V
from Consider the stakes

Sally Wen Mao

We danced in the slaughterhouse one frosty night, my ball gown glistening with lamb products. A strobe light stroked your cheek. This year the slaughterhouse burned down, and in its place we built a hotel. That was the last hotel we ever slept in. Snow fell from hacksaw bridges. Yesterday I spent my birthday alone with a plate of red pears, whispering to no one as I fell asleep. March 14th: again, I hurtle toward spring. Goodnight disaster. Goodnight cesspool. Goodnight dolphin.