Nothing short of miracle, the fruit flies/just appear.
These days are the jars we place on high shelves in pantries like/full ripe peaches slick in orange syrup so wet that when the jar/
breaks the house smells of peaches for days after.
This house is a house where you shake out your shoes. We have bloodsuckers, see. Creepy-crawlies. If it’s pissed off and fits in a boot, we’ve got it. Conenoses and masked hunters, lone star ticks and brown dog ticks. We have scorpions. Scorpions.
Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Art.