worms
– after C.B.
These worms are sorry bits of life
why are they so sorry?
it seems as if they
are apologizing
for staining the pavement;
it isn’t their fault
the rain didn’t drown them
and they’re not dead
in time;
I try not to step
on them
but they’re everywhere
cracking in the sun
trying desperately
to squeeze
all their blood
and bowels
and hermaphrodite organs
into the wet ends of their bodies
but they just burst,
and die quicker…
I don’t change my pace
or my path
or stride
I want to get
my liquor
without the guilt
of squishy death…
other men suffer remorse of
murder, genocide
I suffer
the deaths of shit eaters…
I see two
entwined;
too dry to untangle,
too wet to die,
and I am faced with
a choice
to end their suffering…
when suddenly
I remember
it’s too hot,
I’m too hung over,
to pretend
I give a shit
for them
to eat
Featured by The Blasted Tree: February 28, 2015
Olivia Alexander
Contributing Author
Other works on The Blasted Tree:
Worms by Olivia Alexander is a Blasted Tree original poem.
Feature Image by Thinkstock