by Drew Kalbach

the girl in my vent: black holes

The girl in my vent complains about the LHC very loudly to her mother. She says tiny black holes will form and they will destroy the world. Her mother says that is the silliest thing she has ever heard and the girl in my vent just shrugs which makes a hollow metallic clumping sound.

The girl in my vent wears a bright green wig. She says it distinguishes her from other human beings. That way, when the world comes to an end, she has more of a chance to be saved by passing aliens or by some sort of extra-dimensional being capable of bending the laws of space-time. The girl in my vent believes that space-time is a very good name for a line of modern rugs, she says there is a huge geek market out there just waiting for home furnishings aimed directly at their scientific tastes. The girl in my vent spent twenty minutes last night crying about the LHC.

The girl in my vent came into my room and laid under my bed. She says she feels safer under a bed than she does in the ventilation system. When the girl in my vent speaks she sounds like she is still inside of my vent. Her voice echoes and sounds much deeper than it actually is. The girl in my vent carries a sleeping bag with her wherever she goes. She says the sleeping bag distinguishes herself from other humans. She says when the world comes to an end, and an alien spots her bright green hair, the alien will be more likely to save her if the alien knows she will not have to sleep on a bed.

The girl in my vent is made up of mostly carbon atoms. She says the rest of her is a mixture of nitrogen and helium. The girl in my vent is a cloud of noxious gas wafting through circulation fans. The girl in my vent says when the LHC destroys the earth she will float away into space and she will live off the kindness of strangers mostly.

the girl in my vent: home

The girl in my vent lives alone. The girl in my vent makes friends with rats. The girl in my vent will not stop leaving notes inside my socks.

I have a magnet in my throat. The girl in my vent holds tiny pieces of metal inches from my Adam's apple. I want to leave the bathroom but she keeps the keys hidden in her thick blond tangles.

I want to lay in the street until the girl in my vent hits me with my car.

I want the girl in my vent to come out once in awhile so we make jell-o pudding together then eat it slowly with tiny spoons.

The girl in my vent looks at me and laughs.

The girl in my vent says she knows my type. The girl in my vent says I'll wait alone forever until one day she decides to come out to propose to me and on that day nothing will be good enough.

The girl in my vent holds mirrors against the back of my head. She pulls out my leg hair. She plucks my eyebrows for fun.

The girl in my vent smells like my bedroom before I knew the girl in my vent existed.

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Drew Kalbach lives in Philadelphia. He has appeared (or will shortly) in Elimae, Robot Melon, Thieves Jargon, and others. His chapbook The Zen of Chainsaws and Enormous Clippers is available from dogzplot.com's chapbook series. He blogs at this-blog-is-a-piece-of-art.blogspot.com.