"burrower" poems
Do I live here?
deep between the ripening caves of your teeth,
or the rips of soft flesh on your lips,
where I can fly within your bloodsteam, explore the cells and explode the angry immigrants.
Airborne visitors.
ring the doors of your iris and build a home in your bones,
I can make myself all half of you:
beating between heartbeats.
I can convince your brain never to end, or explore the terrors of the world,
keep you safe and live forever.
I can hear bears inside these caves, we will dance forever to the wild hum inside you,
playing drums and eating fruit.
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 9:42 AM UTC
i see you, grave burrower,
from across the churchyard.
pointed ears, alert - afraid?
can you hear me breathing?
i know, grave burrower,
i know where you hide.
you hide under cracked stones
where decaying bodies lie.
i see your nose twitch, grave burrower,
can you smell the death?
your garden is bountiful, grave burrower,
it’s a beauty to behold.
how did you get it so beautiful -
are their roots cradled by bones?
i wonder if you see them, grave burrower,
smell them, feel them;
the spirits of the buried.
do you know something about death
that we don’t?
i know you see me, grave burrower,
from across the churchyard.
your wide eyes see in every direction.
can you see me staring?
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC