doggerel (20161219)

gristle and thistle and sharpened teeth
dwell under skin and hide beneath
the roiling swell of too-hot blood.
ashes to ashes, and dust to mud

we gather together to raise the dead
serve them cakes and moldy bread
return again to the silent tomb
just another word for womb

7 thoughts on “doggerel (20161219)”

  1. reminds delightfully of the witches’ chant in MacBeth — “unsavory” folks who cook. and the link between “tomb” and “womb” surprises and interests me as i try to understand it.

  2. rarely do rhymes not sound trite or tired, you’ve woven them perfectly into the fabric of this piece. i too am fascinated by the tomb/womb, having come from one…

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