ILL

tonight I w
ill wear a shadow
I’ll take my special w
alking stick w
ith a silver blade at one end
then I w
ill go deep in the desert
searching for the rock slug
that creeps you out
I hear
my dear
Jamahara

the slug is black like the inside of an ant at night-
it’s w
eightless like the ghost of a fallen leaf-
it craw
ls as fast as a snake coming dow
n the prunes trees-
it’s hungry like the rooms of a quick grow
ing hospital-
it’s hard to find and dangerous, but I w
ill kill it

you’ll see its body
in the coming days, some little thing
dark in color, and useless;
throw it aw
ay

::: ::: :::

[Picture: luttes by reading_is_dangerous]