Kat Dixon

Saturn, Without

i.
Ringed? I pulled on pillowcases instead of socks.

Window: neighbor’s cat eats grass and coughs up vowels. For this same reason I accept the handshake of a man who refuses to read anything written in cursive. I know because there are few who ignore my just-in-case pretty and believe that I don’t drive because I worry about carbon emissions. My hair was tangled when they told me what he would ask, so I expected What if we decided not to walk on sidewalks? Why do you color pictures on your envelopes? (Will you someday look as old as you are?)

ii.
I don’t risk ironing my clothes because my breasts are already small. Loosen my kneecaps, won’t you?, and call it a day already. Too many floral scenes leave headaches and dry skin.

Seed like sisters do – no, once I ate a box of strawberries and stopped breathing.

iii.
In books I found two boarding passes – Atlanta to New York, Atlanta to Honolulu – and a chewed piece of bubble gum, which I scratched out with a folded paper Star of David and an empty box of birth control. I keep my pages with the paperclips I find in my bed.

Of the five, one grew an ink hill while another hid fast cuticles. There’s one I always pull at and one that snapped to prevent me from making a fist and one that points in the wrong direction. Collected, they stain messages on the bottoms of my feet.

Doorbell: Doorbell: Doorbell:

If you – something – you’d know never to kiss me in public.

(The point blurs on the insides of my shoes.)

iv.
There’s one who knows that things are wrong when he finds me on the kitchen counter. The tile lines up – and how is my ineffable doing? Everything is ok – here with the emphasis on the o.

When the one who I wanted to speak actually did, I was uncomfortable. All I could think to do was to write a letter and be mindful of the empty spaces. (Will you someday – ?)

We’ll marrow, marrow, marrow and narrow, narrow, narrow, all with curlicues and loops, because I’m the reason the shower leaks, and that’s – well, here the emphasis is on the k.

Kat Dixon is working on her undergrad studies in English and Philosophy.  She is currently in the process of relocating to the desert, where she hopes to get into the habit of breathing unpolluted air.  Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in several prime locations and miscellaneous back alleys.