Dearly Beloved, Abomination

by Jason Phoebe Rusch


I am going through menopause
at twenty-nine, my skin pilling up
like a sweater. It falls from 

my bones in cascades of dough. I emerge
as tanned leather hide, as sculpted back. 
My penis emerges 

like a snail through my labia, slowly, 
slowly. Autumnal cornflower blossom.
Light streams in at an afternoon angle.
I have never been so wet with myself:

a creature with the torso of a human,
bandied legs of a goat: 

a semaphore.