FESTERING SONG

by Elizabeth Switaj

 

           fire tries the rotten planks
       soft-surround
                       like my rotten toes & fungal nails
       brittle bones
       osteoporotic names
                          for my hands & what they say
                                          could peel away the bark & heart
     where my potato bugs & larvae
                               scramble, lay
   their secrets to impure
oxygen & light in lichen lattice

                                     they stand for something
, move too fast for me to tell
   the truth

                & dampness can't be caught

 

 

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