Seabrook Leckie, "Burr hooks," 2008
I didn’t think to check my socks—not much for being all princess-and-the-pea, me—and so the burr made a sharp little caltrop surprise. Proof the body’s quicker than the mind: in the moment before the “ow” arose, I was hopping on one foot, peeling the sock back from the other. In the moment after, I spy with my little eye one spiny asterisk annotating my big toe, transferring its painful reference from toe to index finger wholly by inept accident. Where I live, these things happen. Here, it’s either prickly, venomous, poisonous, pointy, itchy, droughty, floody, or an uncomfortable combination of all, ready to set new annotations in flesh and memory.