Sunday, May 21, 2017

052117



de vermis nocturnus

Born at noon, razored out of rock, tile, or marble,
they spill forth noiselessly
from steaming maternal slits,
squirming under chairs, within stones,
behind you.

They grow, slithering from incandescent edge to edge,
temperaments hotter than their Stygian hues,
pushing the bounds of their cages,
which are never large enough.
They wax as day wanes;
by nightfall they're ready to cut loose.

The night worms hunger, ceaselessly;
what sustenance they find under, within, and behind
the objects of this world can never be enough.

They are easily seen, if you know how to look:
those hints of movement in the dark recesses
of our world are mere phantasms.
Look sideways; in an eye's corner see the night worms writhe;
feel the growing pressure of their attention.

Above all, be circumspect.
Your Shih Tzu, Little Ozzie, who disappeared last week?
You did not eat him at that new Asian restaurant
in spicy red-cooked noodles Friday night.
Keep your toddler nephew in the light.




Publ. Star*line, 2012

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