animal farmer

there is a frog called sorrow at the back of my throat

it made a nest and its eggs develop beneath my tongue

conditions are perfect there             warm moist quiet

 

there is a snake that lives in my stomach

she fell there, pregnant and unaware

now she flips about constantly, fighting her own death

and has buried her egg deep within me and now it tries to hatch

 

there is a squirrel on a treadmill just behind my left eye

he is a novelist with no ideas

so he sits frightened gazing into the world and whispers falsities about what he sees

to the crow that caws incessantly, nestled in my inner ear

 

 

 

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