Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Meg Johnson Ms. Knots I am in knots. In fact I'm currently on tour. You would think demonstrations of my freakishness would be destructive, but how many people can so elegantly transition themselves from a Lark's Knot to a Clove Hitch? This is who I am. Try to look away. Just try. The Staircases One staircase is fighting with another staircase. They threaten to light each other on fire. They argue about light wood vs. dark wood and talk about numbers. Thirty-two people in two months, brags one staircase. I won't even go into footsteps. Self-Inflicted Misery It brings me strange comfort. Like a pharmacist with a foreign accent. Frenemy My ego is a ghost. My ego rose from the dead. My ego was once spotted drinking green tea on the west side. My ego wrote me a ransom note. It demanded a dozen new dresses, a higher quality phone, and a tropical vacation. My ego told me to tell you this. I didn't want to. Next Poem
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