by Kristina Bicher
a prison spoon, sharp teeth, a rosary
and chicken feet, a compass rose, magnetic blood
TNT, equanimity, and a diamond file for a finger;
jeweler’s glass, rubber suit, passport stamp
kick in the ass, the right shoes, the North Star
a shiv and an ampule of musk; sulfuric acid,
wooden mask, litmus test, laughing gas, atom bomb
doctor’s note, hammer of Thor, a metaphor,
a stronger rope, a longer hope, a golden tongue
le mot juste, safer roost, divining rod
echolocation and a sleeve of magical staves.
But in order to exit, I first had to step over the body.