Jan Sand Biography

Split me in two
And spread the gash.
There, between the pillows
Of my lungs, tangled
...

Let's bake a cake for a snake,
Fill our jeans with jellybeans,
Comb our hair with a rake,
Paint our ears with blues and greens.
...

My floor is littered
With corpses.
The older they get,
The more they stink.
...

There is a morning fog here
That rises from the snow
To inhabit head-tall space
In a lightless glow.
...

There was an old man who was lonely and grim
And excessively technically minded.
He lived with a cat and an owl that was fat
And a fancy new clock. He=d designed it.
...