Catalogue Entry for Aging
Claire Donato

The night we met, I contracted a childhood disease.


The discoloration resembled that of turmeric or a fig tree.

I measured the color’s expansive, wide distance: Inner thigh to the edge of the mattress.


Tonight, a man on the phone poses an inquiry re: two boxes of books by Leon Trotsky.

I cover the mouthpiece, laugh with my co-worker.


Dear Sir or Madam: I am stunned by how easy it is to be a Very Bad Person.