Sale Section

J.Sperling, 12th - New York City
When my bones give way to gravity, buy me new ones (keep the change),
from CVS, or maybe Walmart.
It is cheaper there;
I hear you can steal
and nobody will say a word.

When my lips shed like snake skins turn them into jackets
and sell them on the street.

Replace my fingers with straws
and sip my insecurities away.

Wrap my arms in double sided tape;
thin my legs to hold my weight;
make my nails paperclips;
make me useful
like I wasn’t before.

Leave my brain, will you please?
You always said

A Smart woman is Sexy

And I always said

Nothing (did you even listen?)

Put me in your window display when you are finished,

I still need sun to survive
and perhaps a bit of water.
I will live next to your dead chrysanthemum and pray I don’t end up the same,
undernourished,
on sale.

And when a customer arrives, complimenting you on your collection, show them my way.
I will spread my petals for them.

Put a price on me.
No really,
please?

I’ll give you the receipts if you need
help.
7.99 for each tibia
14.99 for the bigger bones.
Check the revenue from my lips.
I’ll sit here and tap B U Y M E in morse code on the windowsill with my plastic fingers while you do the calculations.
Then you can really know my worth,
in all its dollar signs.