Lantern Review | The Hybridity Issue

Jane Wong

from Division by Zero

Without denominator, I circle the length of a half note. I circle the clasp of a deer running from a headlight. It is blinding to remind myself that it is temporary. Everything is temporary. This is supposed to console me

To tumble off and empty

A waterfall never reaches its river

The sun changes direction and

You can no longer look around and tell time

A bag of sugar is ripped open for all to see

It pours steadily and there is nothing

We can do to stop it

I have a weakness for ghosts

First of all, I believe in them

They move about in the second half of night

They move when you can’t move your muscles

I wish I was more receptive during sleep

Hooked up to some ghost machine

Try to keep near me, I’d say

The plants by the windowsill grow as we speak

Tell me everything

I’d draw closer until I reach transparency to match

The square of sunlight on the small of my back

My brother is shoveling snow during a storm. Sometimes, I think I could just fall over, he says. Out there in the snow, he looks like the middle of a ghost. Later, when he comes in, his face is dripping with so much snow, he could be crying. He used to cry a lot when he was younger. I used to give him a spoon. He could barely open his mouth