Considerations by Laurinda Lind

Maidens in the ice convinced me that electrocution was never going to work as an inducement to safe crackers and sociopaths. Where would they go during a deluge? Not to nude operas. No one likes a ruthless chimera either, unless on the tundra awkwardness counts as a crossroad. Other comrades could gather under the layers, and we’d never sense them unless a bomb went off with an apology wrapped around it. That would get our attention except for in interstellar space, where if something seems fishy, it will only help the genome. A guilt likewise won’t thaw an architecture, but that doesn’t mean no one should try. All we can do now is sign off for lead-free freight, that and practice color-by-numbers but kindly. Say safe out there, ice maidens. Without you, indecent exposure gradually would downgrade to isobars, when we really want it to upgrade to ecstasy. What cult couldn’t run better on a darker dose of that?

Laurinda Lind lives in New York’s North Country. One of her favorite anagrams of her name is Radial Lid Nun. Some publications/ acceptances include Antithesis, Chiron Review, Cold Mountain Review, Comstock Review, Ellipsis, Far Off Places, Liminality, Mobius, Mudfish, Off the Coast, Paterson Literary Review, Ship of Fools, and Triggerfish.