The Cabbage Brigade
I’m not sure what to think as I examine the cabbage in front of me. It’s so small it could fit neatly into the palm of my hand. A milk white stalk unfurls into dark green leaves; a locust rests atop, its legs poised to take leap. I’m seized by a sudden madness to smash the glass and hold the cabbage in my hand, to feel the weight of it in my palm, and to feel its glossy smoothness against my skin.
la petite beanie 