Incorrections

By James Reidel

October: bat wings,

which hung from the window latches crinkle–cut by pinking
shears.

Black French fries.

November: turkey feathers, their peacock hues owing to a
mutation,

a source of radiation.

The Wonderful World of Color.

December: paper doll snowflakes,

which stretched and sagged where a piece of tape gave way.

By now the glass felt colder. But that didn’t hurt.

The creases — almost scorched smooth when your mother
ironed them out.

You had to tell her something, for why you were crying in–
consolably.