by Monica Claesson

The old man     drops his teeth in a jar        

and watches      as they whiten

unscrews      his toes

and weighs them in his hand      like marbles

pops off      his fingernails

and lines them up      in order on his nightstand

rubs the color      from his cheeks

and packs the pigment      into disks like dry paint

combs out      his beard

and stuffs the wisps of white hair      beneath the bed

unpeels his veins      from his wrists

and shaking      

spools them up like strands and strands of so much blue thread.

Monica Claesson is a Spanish student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. She fell in love with poetry in high school, and has been writing ever since. In addition to writing, she enjoys reading, traveling, and anything involving the great outdoors.