Feb 12, 2008

crab louse

Written by D.A. Powell

Read by Geoffrey Brock

all the armor plates cannot protect you, eremite

the way you burrow into the vulnerable part of the forest
and pray god the clippers don’t get you: their blades
whirring above your chitinous form
threatening to whack your tiny head off at the thorax

you have clung to one liana after another
tarzan-swinging into each savory tuck and fold
of the map. incautious the people who ran naked
in the dense light & let you —
[people meaning me. & many others]

so the infestation starts: one unguarded prick
a nook in which you suck and suck
until the itch to kill you, a primate reflex, prevails

as you gorge in the troughs and ditches of desire
plumping like an old man pickled in alcohol
the agile fingers seek you out, pull at your hind legs
crack your meaty shell, you token of fleeting devotion

a pest, a pest, a rubious skin: douse us with kerosene