Micro Monday #8: “Exorcism” by Jacqueline Zalace

I think I was lying in bed when my chest burst
open – was Sigourney there? I read that her name
is Susan, can you believe that? I want to reach into
my throat and grab the lump of flesh, the homunculus
waiting – listening, eating every thought I sip down
like cheap wine I bought at the store, no corkscrew,
stabbing the top with a blunt knife. But I stabbed
through my hand, blood trailed down my elbow, leaking
onto the floor – I stepped in it, leaving bloody footprints,
leading up the stairs, into the bathroom, soaking through
the dirty carpet already stained with food and mud from
last time. I’m curled over the toilet, hugging the dingy
throne, yellow with time and shit, I’m pulling it out
of my stomach – both hands, to get a good grip, you know?
Both hands, ten and two, straining against the sides of my
throat, breaking my neck, stretching and pulling, bursting
until my head pops off like a Barbie, leaving nothing but
the plastic stump, oozing bile and blood onto the dirty tile.

Jacqueline Zalace is a poet based in Austin, Texas where they live with their partner and cat. Their first chapbook, Snow Angels, was published in 2024. You can also find Jacqueline’s work in places like Magma Poetry, Superpresent, Fast Flesh Literary Journal, Juste Millie Zine, and Molecule. Aside from writing, they love to play video games, paint, and read. For more information, visit poetryjacquelinezalace.wordpress.com