#allison wu

if we’re all on our own journey, i must be braking down a wound up back lane, asphalt freckled in potholes, a path driving itself sick. i fear these edges which hulk like embankments, and oversteer this mis-angled trajectory of contours stretched too wide over my skin. i abridge. i infrastructure. i corset. always attempting to cheat all of                   this volume. i marinate in bleach…

            on the news, they say a humble lake in suburban Canada holds significant evidence of the shift to a geological epoch             of the humans. i want to retrace my roots, baiting metal with metal, hook grazing algae gnawed histories, pole whirring             like retrospect. and so, from the wobbling murk, i pickpocket detonations until my hands bloat with war-slicked…