exhibit z

Have you ever visited the museum 

of a poignant poem? Seen the slapdash draft that

didn’t cut the tongue as desired, 

stoppered behind plexiglass? Raw debris survives though,

somewhere in imposter conscience—

preserved at what cost? There’s no heist. Just sabotage. 

A poet is most predictable, don’t you agree? All too willing to

vandalise their first thoughts, for statement. Look closer at Exhibit Z

and you will see

a duplicate of Exhibit A, only with its nudity

clothed in metaphor. 

© Mollie Mardel