RON RIEKKI

THE SMELL WHEN YOU WALK
INTO THE PSYCH WARD OF THE PRISON

It’s like every towel
in the world,

the insides
of an owl,

a barefoot
if it was really

bare of foot,
i.e. just the guts;

it’s a reminder,
a language,

the function
of imperfection,

the way we
bulldoze bodies;

how do you count
to a billion

and not lose count?