top of page


bcbe989f9bunny_museum_2_1200-jpg (1).jpeg
waking eyes crusty


talking the walk taken
         through a snow blistered
glass, pain
                              settling into the arc
                    where the throat
starts. getting finger
                              blasted like sand
off the sidewalk,         by a high powered hose
a mass scattering
          to cells. knitting a scarf.
I put my head through the hood of the hoodie
         and then through another hoodie’s head
                   and now I am warm well, for now
oh                           the weather outside is
        weather. whether or not
                            you like it. see if I care
if she sells shit on the boardwalk. say it
                   three times fast!
        sing it! to your neighbor
knock on their door do you
                   know them? or just their sounds
        good with me either way
                   I’ve never been one
to judge                              a joke
          that’s all I’m good for.
I’m for all that good     I hope.
will be eternal this year
          and there’s nothing I know
                    to do about it
but make a list. what’s the pros and what’s the cons
          of us continuing to earth along
                    mer ily as in seaishly.
                               a tiny boat
in the eye of the beholder
                   holding on for dear life.
       oh dear oh dear oh dear.
                          a line
                in the deep deep depths
of a notion
         calling it back on the defunct public
                              telephone to see what it turned up.
                     I flew thru the air
from ny to sfo
                              and my footprint grew five sizes
          and you know what they say about big feet…
                     I’m cropping
my image
         to make my self smaller.
                    I’m flirting with bigfoot
in the delta skymiles preferred flyer bathroom.
                              I’m wondering
what it’ll take   to grow up.
                             is it laying on the ground
         with the remains of my time,
                   walking around in elliptic circles
                   or selling my soles
                              to walk miles
in someone’s ugly shoes?



Juliet Gelfman-Randazzo is an MFA candidate at Rutgers University-Camden, where she has recently written about tattooing, deer contraception, and trees. She also makes clothes and objects like clothes, but not quite. She can be followed @tall.spy (Instagram) & @tall__spy (Twitter), but she can never be caught.

bottom of page