I had the strangest urge today:
I was consumed by a desire to eat trees.
I was just sitting there innocently,
in my bed, listening to heavy metal shriekback
and doing an expository comparison of Holmes to Watson,
and then it hit and I had to,
simply had to run out into the woods and sink my teeth
into the nearest sycamore.
Sycamore, because a hickey would show up
so sweetly on that mottled flesh.
Never mind that I live in the inner city
where there aren't any trees, and trees don't
get hickeys when you suck them dry
anyway. All I could think about
was that tree groaning in ecstasy;
and me, sating myself mercilessly,
teeth plunging, sticky sweet sap running
in delirious rivulets of white blood cells
from my mouth...And then!
And then I'd thank the tree kindly
and make love to a mulberry bush!
Shake the berries from its streaming loins!
But it's November, my better nature moans -
And I answer with a whoop and a howl
and seek tulips to kiss, and rhododendrons.
Rhododendrons to romp in,
roses to row in. And the crowning glory
is that I shall wallow in mushrooms
until I give birth to a puffball.
I want to get knocked up with fungal secrets,
balloon away on the spores of the wind.
It all begins with misanthropism,
I decide, as I vampirize a salacious carrot.
Vegetarianism is oh so elite.
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Excavations
PoetryOld poems and older poems. The art in here is far more recent - all illustration tiles were made between April 20, 2024 and May 12, 2024. Some of these poems were published in a chapbook, Eleusinian Mysteries, in 1995, under the pen name Sarah Maddo...