the permanent marker squeaks across the page black sharpie mimic the scream rage & awareness & hands off hands off hands OFF MY BODY you call this democracy?

it's snowing,

again,

and through the endless endless white and the soft ticking of the grandfather clock

on the wall i halfheartedly wonder what the cardinal

in the bird feeder thinks of this.

My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.