my pedophile is obsessed with details

when he says appropriate / he is not referring to the number of dollies in

the room or how well they are centered on the tables or whether or not

the items on the dollies are centered on the dollies or the arrangement of

the room is equal to the arrangement of dollies so that the dollies

themselves do not attract all of the attention in the space / he is referring

to whether or not they are essential to the space since the rooms should

not be a compositions of dollies // as in // some attention should be given

to the frame of things // for instance // the fact that all the items in the

room are less than the room / the windows // the plaster // the paint // the

hard wood floors // the doorways // the beams beneath / above /behind

everything // these things / he says / are essential having nothing to do

with my hands or my feet or how they are connected to my body / or how

he wants the right to space everything symmetrically / rearrange a life

in the most appropriate way









my pedophile requires attention

when he speaks of proximity / he is not referring to the fading photograph

in the hall or the razor blade rusting in the shower or the silver frame on

the dressing table for which there is no glass / he is speaking of making

things / dried glue peeling on his fingertips / sequins and glitter in small

drinking cups, plastic membranes of synthetic roses // smell of polish

remover and paint // the sickly slice in his thumb from an X-Acto knife

/ the cut he keeps opening and closing like a lipless pair of lips / the

popsicle stick shoved under his mouth playing patient to the doctor of

his hand / the “O” he says while thinking an “Ah” / the runway out his

doorway littered with bright colored feathers // sparkles // and things









my pedophile experiments with genders

if it is remarkable / it is the marginal line between white bread and wheat,

how the distance is measured in grains / how to move a grain over has

no affect on the general composition / but to move it with ease

demonstrates inclination toward platitude / as with a slice of cheese cut

thicker than thin // a thing not added to the sandwich since it would never

fit collaboratively into the designated space // the way he scrapes

mayonnaise slowly over a cracker / minding the boundaries of its

dimpled crest with the feminized angle of his knife





Kimberly Ann Priest is the author of White Goat Black Sheep (FLP) and her poetry has appeared in several literary journals including The Comstock Review, riverSedge, Welter, and The Berkeley Poetry Review. She is an MFA graduate of New England College, Assistant Professor at MSU, reviewer for NewPages, and editor for the Nimrod International Journal. See more of her work on her website.