The Rot Sets In

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


The Rot Sets In


There’s a strange scent permeating the air today.

Musty, but so much more than that.

It takes a while for my nose to recognize

the cloying scent of decay.


Decomposition, a natural thing,

as cells, deprived of nutrients consume themselves.

An implosion of biological functioning

now that life has stopped.


Fungus spreads across the wood,

worms, beetles, tiny grubs, burrow and swell

and the wood, once firm, is moist and soft

while the leaves have dried to dust.


I press my fingers to the bark and they sink inside,

making me feel like I’m intruding;

a surgeon given no permission to operate.

There’s a feeling of repulsion as the insects sense the warmth of blood

and, in a search for sustenance, they explore my flesh,

quivering at the prospect of something warm and fresh.


Quickly, I withdraw and wipe them from my hand,

suffocating on the putrid stench

as the rot sets in.

Submitted: January 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Mike S.

Gross, but excellent, Hull

Thu, January 14th, 2021 8:47pm


I guess it was really. Thanks for reading it, Mike.

Sun, February 7th, 2021 6:02am

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