The world turned
sideways just a little,
like salt crunching
between my teeth,
lke eating hotdogs
at the beach,
like finding a pearl
and cracking your teeth.  

I clipped my wings
just a little
maybe so I’d stay
close to home,
not get high enough
to sore among
stratus clouds,
dry and thin
like old skin
you can see
through, cords pulsing
like chemtrails excreted
across the sky.  

My breath scorched
every word, just a little,
every word ever spoken
while the children
listened, just a little,
burnt tongues
alivating over
breakfast sweet-buns.  

I swallowed them,
all the way down
my golden pipes,
and flapped
until my wings
were strong enough
to lift my feet
off the ground,
just a little.