Poem: shannon felt
Found, the better part of a solid body
protruding from the ruddy ground
and brought flush already with
the wilderness of a hot afternoon.
How the light is a barren beast
that feasts on all,
tearing its receivers to white, to bone
with shafted teeth and as such
rendering in them a glare of harshness;
a flash of lust,
and, glancing, turning them to the round
and playful offspring of the animal
who may grow to be as much.
Thus exhumed, our urge asks only
that it be consumed.