residing in dirt,
chewing life in a toothless mouth,
excreting pellet remains.
(An owl of a mouse,
sinew entwined with bone, ovals of indigestible waste:
Death Wreathes.)
Your trace,
compacts into tunnels,
surface to bedrock.
No eyes to see
no ears to hear
just vibrations of terror-
the mole victorious!
Oh Worm!
death surrounds you,
above,
below,
your suicide on cement,
your protracted body,
noose-like in death,
a sodden spasm.
The silence in thunder
and the whimper of lightening.
O Death, you worm,
you litter my path.
I dodge your corpses,
I tip toe
around your limp remains.
Ignore the fossil prints,
etched on cement.
You are everywhere I look.
You are the worm in gall,
green death in carpets above.
The wormwood of dirt,
pattering the bronze,
dimming the lights,
making passages through bone.
Oh Worm!
Compost my body!
Make soil of my remains!
My breath, fleet feet,
you cannot catch,
coalesces in the heavens!
For all I am is dirt on earth
and breath in heaven above.
The rain that drives
to drown
lays on amalgamated
surface,
the leachate formed by body and water,
rebirthing.
Oh Worm! Oh Death!
Fear not thy grave!
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