Paula Koneazny: Diorama


Here are five ribbons. The first one ties it all together.

The second ribbon shifts its weight inside the second box. In order for this to happen, the bomb must be either detonated or dismantled.

You wrap the third ribbon around a beehive. No other delicacy compares to silk saturated with honey.

The fourth ribbon ligates an herbivore. “This is some moody jungle,” he says. “Dinner is on the leash,” you say.

The fifth ribbon resembles your bandaged thumb or the tattered banner of history. “This is a difficult decision for us,” you say.

After which, you look trim from all your exertions.

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