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unburied still come springtime

Poetry By: Caroline Michaud


Submitted:Jun 1, 2013    Reads: 1    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

green-seethed girl, fanged and dirt-dotted, unpaled, dissembling moons

cool in spring decay and hot steaming grass rising through her

colorless sockets, her unmade nose, her disintegrated scalp housing

disborn dreams and chiggers; gasoline ground wet with their small

homicides. rain

runsoff her oil-pure teeth her nowhere tongue; her body was struggling

elsewhere growing where it was not seed, not birthing soon against all

odds all flowers face but denied in dead earth--the lie of spring

was fructification to the bleached raisined girl, unpicked and unplanted,

unmeaning angel to burnedup larva but

looking from the moon she was a pure pearl, full icy culmination,

the world finally unmade whole

in the dead of equinox.


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