Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2017  Vol. 16 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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An Invitation

Night crawlers:

let the feet I stomp at night
in rubber boots above your houses send
you back into the dirt, as deep
in your earth as you may go—
through rock and clay,
crust and mantle,

and then deeper.

Earthworms of so many hearts
and so few brains, empurpled in lust
at midnight, smelling of mushroom
and sprouted potato.

Flee from my tread, peel
yourselves from your lovers. Return
once again to blindness.
Dig down past the roots
and hide
as you do
from the sun’s unforgiving.

Stay away from the point of my pen,
keep me from pressing you between the dead leaves
of my notebook, as the carnivorous plant
feeds, not to chew,
but to disappear its victim. Keep

this writhing thing, worm that was my husband,
from coming back

to life.  

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