by Rachel Tanner
Sunday is the lord’s day and the lord
is my bed. I stay here, wrap
myself up, stretch my limbs out
like a starfish. There is no one else here
to take up room that is rightfully mine.
Mine mine mine mine mine.
My bed is a table. It’s a desk. It has
crumbs in it from who-knows-when
and I don’t give a fuck. I make my
bed. My bed makes me.
Rachel Tanner is a queer, disabled Alabamian writer whose work has recently appeared in Videodame, Barren Magazine, The Weekly Review, and elsewhere. She tweets @rickit.