Christine Marella

Universal Acclaim

Actually, I had a sane response.

The two rivers spilled something we could only see from space.

Then the intersections snapped off, tired of being so cross.

Once upon a time, we lived with a woman who interpreted our dreams.

You hate making decisions, she said, only to me.

It follows that I was thrilled.

The wrongness of the year spread like damp on the ceiling.

So I walked at the speed of dawn and no one could take my picture.

It was embarrassing, how badly I peeled the egg.

The weak tea, she didn’t like how I made it for her.

You are also embarrassed by beautiful language,

accused the commercials on dream TV.

I tried out for the team but still they wouldn’t take me.

Spiral staircases all over town straightened in protest.

Never enough chandeliers is what I always say

she said during the silence.

They diagrammed the exits when I got to the hotel.

Don’t they know when we are unaware we feel the safest –

We had a regular time in the castle bathroom

then decided how salesy we wanted to be.

It was a terrible disease.

I walked out of the frame so I could better see it.


Christine Marella is a writer from California.
She lives in New York City, where she is an MFA candidate at NYU.