Bill Christophersen

B i l l  

C h r i s t o p h e r s e n

Baker

His confections, like your

brightest ideas, most

masochistic jealousies and

inveterate fears, bake

while you sleep, the off-white

braids inflating, the torqued,

currant-laden batter torqueing.

The baker yawns, lets them

rise, rolls out moist dough

for the next batch and

dreams a second.

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