in service of a ringborn in the zoo of teeth and skins, mary harvests hands. her tongue, quiet as a stone. feet, tanned by fire and rock. a cauldron hangs at her waist, waiting for an unready meal like a hatchling. witches crawl from the flesh of rest. today, flames sacrifice wood to answer a belly’s demand. ... This poem originally appeared in Counterexample Poetics. It is also included in Colin's first full-length collection of poetry, The Mattress Parlor (Scribble Fire Press, 2011). |
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