Friday, August 29, 2014

A Snail’s Life

As I wait for the traffic light to change
I think of you and the weight of this shell 
digs into my back. I make up my mind
to hit the gas through this intersection 

but when the light turns green my exhaust  
turns to slime and my tires slip and slide;
a silver trail desiccates behind me.
Riding my back always, this heavy house

of brittle walls brims over with tender looks
and touch, the color nude. I wish I could 
smash this carpet bag of residual flesh, 
expose the soft and supple to the sun, 

pour salt on promises hanging so thick 
the air turns to slime and I can’t breathe
or keep up with this life I’ve built without you 
so I’m always slipping, catching myself.  

Seattle, WA
April 10, 2014

"A Snail's Life" was first published in Miller's Pond Poetry Magazine. Fall 2014. Online.

No comments:

Post a Comment