unburied still come springtime

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

Submitted: June 01, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 01, 2013




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.


© Copyright 2017 Caroline Michaud. All rights reserved.