DSQ > Spring 2008, Volume 28, No.2


The chemist calls me vitreous: neither

solid nor liquid, but amorphous,

glassy. An unstable state of matter.

Shards disturb my windpipe, shift uneasily

behind my sternum. Force

dissolves, along with sleep, and solace.

If I swallowed pints of tar and resin,

would I be preserved? Or would

decomposition creep from outside in?

Return to Top of Page